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J LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



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| UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. J 



RESPONSES 



FROM THE 



SACRED ORACLES: 



THE PAST IN THE PRESENT. 



BY 



RICHARD 



W. DICKINSON, D.D., 



AUTHOR OF 
"RELIGION TEACHING BY FX^irLE, OR SCENES FROM SACRED HISTORY" ETC. 



NEW YORK: 
ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, 

285 BROADWAY. 











«$ 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year ]850, 
By ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, in and for the 
S urherii District of New York. 



STEREOTYPED l'.Y C. C. SAVAGE, 
13 Chaml.ers Street, N. Y. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

The Sons of the First Man 7 

The Patriarch's Death-Bed 47 

The Legislator's Faith 65 

The Grave of Lusts 85 

The Conspiracy Defeated 110 

The Self-Idolater 134 

Factitious Religion 154 

The Leper's Extre3iity 175 

The Unprincipled Servant. 194 

The Skeptic 207 

The Apostate 227 

The Wise Man's Contrasts 253 

The Son of God 269 

The Infidel Jews 293 

The Sin of the Pharisees 310 

The Ways of the World 327 

The Dying Penitent 342 

The Desponding Disciples 367 

The First Gentile Convert 387 

The Almost Persuaded 408 



PREFACE. 



We have found in the Past the archetypes of the 
Present, and seen ourselves in the mirror of Sacred 
Writ. They to whom reference is made in the follow- 
ing pages, are not fictitious characters. They were 
men of like capacities and passions with ourselves; and 
hence all their acts have their counterpart in those of 
the men of the present day. We have our Cains and 
Abels, our Naamans and Gehazis, our Ahithophels, 
Asas, and Amaziahs. We, too, with those that will in 
turn claim the reader's attention, have the same tempta- 
tions and trials, the same fears and sorrows, the same 
weaknesses and unbelief. The relations which they 
sustained to God and eternity, bind us; the wants 
and woes of which they were sensible, are common to 
us, as the descendants of the same parent ; and as 
we, also, by reason of sin, must die, we need, no less 
than they of old whom God owned as his servants, a 

heaven-born faith, and a Divine Saviour. 
1* 



b PREFACE. 

We have, therefore, inquired at the Oracles of God, 
to ascertain in what light certain characters were regard- 
ed, and what were the results of their manner of life 
and religious practices : and as the Word of the Lord 
was to them, or the expression of God's will in relation 
to their actions, such are the responses of the Sacred 
Oracles to us. 

If it be true, that " as in water face answereth to face, 
so does the heart of man to man," it will, we trust, be 
equally apparent to the reader before he closes this vol- 
ume, that "God, who at sundry times and in divers 
manners spake in time past unto the fathers by the 
prophets, hath in these last days spoken unto us by his 
Son." 

New York, September, 1850. 



RESPONSES FROM THE SACRED ORACLES, 



THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 

All inquiries respecting man are of trifling import 
compared with his relations to God and futurity. It is 
certain that as he alone of all terrene existences is gift- 
ed with intelligence, he alone can hold communion with 
an intelligent immaterial Creator. That such a Being 
exists, the world with its countless appearances of de- 
sign, all irreconcilable with our experience of accidental 
effect, distinctly intimates: and, if God's existence can- 
not be legitimately questioned, it is unreasonable to 
suppose that he created such a world as this, without 
any assignable end, or formed man to abandon him to 
the control of his animal instincts. The simple admis- 
sion that man is a creature, implies that he was not left 
to the slow operation of unaided reason to discover the 
Author and the end of his existence. To have created 
man, and not imparted to him whatever degree of knowl- 
edge was necessary to enable him to perform at once 
the highest purposes of his being, would have been 
inconsistent with that benevolent wisdom which the 
Creator has displayed even in the minutest of his works. 



8 THE SOXS OF THE FIRST MAN. 

Hence the presumption in favor of an original Rev- 
elation to man ; and, by consequence, of the authenti- 
city and genuineness of the Mosaic Record — a record 
which has all the proof the nature of the case admits 
of; which might have been readily compiled from tra- 
ditional history preserved beyond the Deluge, when the 
length of antediluvian life rendered the tradition from 
Adam to Abraham safe in its transmission, and free from 
corruption ; which, from its extreme antiquity, is essen- 
tially independent of all external testimony ; yet, in 
its principal facts, has more historical and moral, if not 
more positive and collateral testimony in its favor, 
than any other events in the annals of the world. 

It is foreign from oar purpose to investigate its cred- 
ibility ; this we assume ; not, however, for the purpose 
of fabricating a theory in religion and morals, but to aid 
us in an inquiry of transcendent importance. 

It must be admitted that man's judgment is apt to be 
swayed by his early educational impressions ; still, such 
impressions may be right ; and it is within the province 
of mind to discriminate between essential principles and 
adventitious notions ; by a logical process of thought 
to separate the true from the false, and by the absolute 
laws of human testimony to distinguish fact from fable. 
Our prepossessions, if in favor of truth, need but facili- 
tate our inquiries after truth ; and as all spiritual truths 
disclose deeper relations to the mind when believed from 
the heart, so our belief in Christianity may lead to the 
discovery of new arguments in its support, where the 
skeptic would be blind, or the philosopher could but the- 
orize. Indeed, the darkness of antiquity cannot be 



THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 9 

explored without the torchlight of Christianity. It is 
to the Record of the creation, what science is, in any 
attempt to decipher the hieroglyphics of Egypt ; and 
whether we would explore the past or pry into the 
future, alike indispensable as the guide and reward of 
all our inquiries. "Wonderful system ! which compre- 
hends the several dispensations of God to man, from 
the beginning to the consummation of all things ! hardly 
less to be prized for the discoveries which it makes, 
than for the hopes which it inspires ! 

Now if man fell from his original estate of moral 
purity, and provision was made for his final deliverance 
from-ihe guilt and power of sin through faith in a Divine 
Redeemer, it were to be presumed that his early history 
would serve to elucidate matters of such moment to the 
human family. Should his true history, if such be ex- 
tant, be wanting in facts to guide inquiry and warrant 
legitimate conclusions, then, whatever the formula of 
schools or the deductions of speculative reason, it could 
not be proved that " by man sin entered into the world, 
and death by sin." For aught we know to a moral cer- 
tainty, Death may be in harmony with the original con- 
stitution of things — Depravity, the result of circum- 
stances, or the force of association — Religion, the de- 
vice of kings to secure their ascendency over the popu- 
lar will ; and the Atonement, a mere fiction of design- 
ing priests, availing themselves of natural terrors to en- 
chain the people by bloody rites. 

But what the Bible reveals as doctrines to be accred- 
ited on the authority of Him who has an inherent right 
to exact our faith as well as our obedience, the history 



10 THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 

of his providence embodies in facts not to be contra- 
vened by human testimony, however much they may be 
perverted by the sophistry of error, or bereft of meaning 
by erudite fancy. 

As, in relation to the being of God, we may reason 
from cause to effect, or from effect to cause, and by 
either method arrive at the same conclusion ; so, whether 
we argue from the facts recorded in Genesis to the doc- 
trines taught in Revelation, or from these to those, the 
same great principles of faith are obtruded on our notice. 
This constitutes the distinctive feature and practical 
value of the Scriptures. Other ancient records, though 
they contain allusions which cannot be explained with- 
out supposing that some traditional knowledge of the 
facts recorded by Moses had been diffused through all 
early nations, yet are confused, and in some respects 
contradictory : but the Bible, though it embodies the 
writings of various minds at different successive inter- 
vals, and through the course of four thousand years — 
from Moses to St. John — is clear in its drift, and con- 
sistent with itself. Its facts bespeak the corresponding 
enunciations of the Divine Mind, and its revealed doc- 
trines presuppose its recorded facts. Its teachings are 
substantially the same to all who reverently inquire at 
the oracles of God, and its historical portions constitute 
but so many facilities for the clearer understanding of 
the mind of the Spirit ; and while the former harmonize 
with the conclusions of the practical reason, the latter 
accord with the facts in our own observation and expe- 
rience. 

Other histories differ in their representations of the 



THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 11 

Divine Being ; sacred history presents him to us in all 
the fulness and harmony of his unchanging perfections. 
So do they unfold different modes, and all alike useless, 
to propitiate the Divine favor ; but in this, we may ob- 
serve one and the same design pervading each succes- 
sive dispensation. All other religious systems leave 
man where they find him — in his sins; this finds him 
a depraved being, and aims to form him " a new crea- 
ture." In other systems the early facts in man's history 
are interwoven with fables or couched in myths ; in this 
all facts ai£ stated in a clear and simple order, with 
equal brevity and terseness — so vividly and with such 
an air of truthfulness, that we involuntarily believe, un- 
less swayed in our judgment by the love of forbidden 
good. In other systems we can with difficulty recognise 
our own nature ; in this, we see ourselves. Anywhere 
else we may discern the wants and woes of our common 
humanity, and man's vain efforts to devise a remedy 
and regain Paradise ; but here we discover a Remedy 
already provided, and a bright pathway to immortality. 
Whichever way we turn, all is dark and portentous — 
as though the threatening angel that guarded the sacred 
enclosure against fallen man's re-entrance, had cast his 
appalling shadow over our souls. Wherever we in- 
quire, whether at the pagod of Vishnu, the sphinxes of 
Egypt, or of the oracle at Delphi, all responses are 
alike enigmatical and discordant ; but from the Sacred 
Oracles one and the same voice breaks in clear and au- 
thoritative accents on the ear of every serious inquirer : 
" I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life." 

If the historical Scriptures could be separated from 



12 THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 

the didactic, or were men divested of prejudice against 
Revealed Religion, they would be studied with deeper 
interest than the books of Herodotus or the Iliad of 
Homer ; regarded as the most ancient and authentic 
sources of knowledge ; and deferred to as final authority 
in all matters relative to man's early history. 

The oldest nations of which we have any account had 
their respective traditions of the creation. Ancient 
Mythology abounds in symbols expressive of many of 
the events recorded in Genesis ; ancient poets, also, 
have sung of the golden age, and philosophers at dif- 
ferent periods of the world have theorized respecting 
the origin of man ; but the Bible tells us, in simple and 
positive terms, that in the beginning God created the 
heavens and the earth — formed man out of the dust of 
the earth, breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, 
caused him to become a living soul, placed him in Par- 
adise, formed woman to be his helpmeet, and gave him 
dominion over the beasts of the earth, and the fowls of 
the air, and the fish of the sea. All people have had 
some idea of the Fall; and we see that man is not what 
we can readily conceive a being so endowed with men- 
tal and moral capacities might have been. All nature, 
too, gives signs of woe, as though conscious of having 
been stricken in mighty wrath by Him who once pro- 
nounced her " good." But it is the Bible alone that can 
tell us when and where the Fall took place, and how the 
earth came to be cursed for man's sake, and why wo- 
man should have sorrow in her conception. We are 
not insensible to the evils of sin, much less blind to its 
appalling ravages ; and though many have endeavored 



THE SOXS OF THE FIRST MAN. 13 

to account for the ills which " flesh is heir to" on al- 
most as many different theories, yet the only simple and 
rational explanation is found in the recorded facts, that 
disobedience to God involved the penalty of death, and 
that after Adam had forfeited his right to " the tree of 
life," he begat a son "in his own likeness." 

We observe the great variety of religious systems that 
have obtained currency in the world, and though they 
are not equally pernicious, we are tempted to brand 
them alike false. But when the primeval records of 
our race are consulted, we find there the prototype of 
all false religions, as well as that of the only true. If 
there is evil in the world, it must have had a beginning ; 
so, if there is good in the world, it cannot be without a 
cause. If any religion be false, some religion must be 
true ; and in either case, each can be traced to its source 
with as much certainty as we can trace the origin and 
the fall of man. 

In relation to such historical matters as do not neces- 
sitate a conclusion in keeping with the doctrines of 
Revelation, credence is readily secured. Thus, it will 
not be denied that the division of labor is the great se- 
cret of facility and perfection in the arts; that it is better, 
too, for the success of each member of the community, 
and for the harmony and prosperity of the whole : but 
such was the original order of God's providence, as is 
shown by the fact that Abel was " a keeper of sheep," 
and Cain " a tiller of the ground,"* — a fact which fur- 
nishes an argument in favor of the record itself, and 
which an impostor who consulted probabilities would 

* Gen. iv. 2. 
2 



14 THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 

not have stated ; for if God had not interfered, and 
events had been left to their natural and regular course, 
the first man and his sons would have been hunters, 
supported by the produce of the chase, till their increase 
of numbers forced them first to the regular occupation 
of shepherds, and afterward to the higher improve- 
ments of agriculture.* 

It is often observed that there is a natural difference 
in the members of the same family : the same difference 
is strikingly apparent in the sons of the first man. It is 
familiar to observation, that parents are often disappoint- 
ed in their children ; but this was the bitter experience 
of the first mother. 

We know that it is not well for man to be idle, that 
idleness is the great foe to our physical and moral well- 
being ; but here is the Divine appointment that man 
should " eat his bread in the sweat of his face," in 
connection with the fact that the first born into the 
world were brought up by their parents in habits of in- 
dustry, and fitted for different but equally honorable and 
useful employments.! 

The history of any barbarous people may teach us, 
that whenever man is left to the progress of his own ex- 
perience, he makes but little advance in the knowledge 
of those arts which contribute to the comforts of civilized 
life ; and if this be so, the Mosaic record, in representing 
the primitive state of man as not a savage state, renders 
it not improbable that men at first were divinely direct- 
ed, not only to a division of labor, but to the use of brass 

* Smith's " Wealth of Nations," b. 5, c. 1. 
f Gen. iii. 19— iv. 2, 3, 4. 



THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 15 

and iron — thus coinciding with the conclusions of rea- 
son as to the probable manner of life which a wise and 
good being would suggest to his rational creatures. 

Now if such historical statements are worthy of cre- 
dence because they accord with the teachings of our 
experience, why not all other statements with which 
they are inseparably interwoven, and which cannot, by 
any law of criticism, be expunged from the record, with- 
out doing violence to the whole. It is preposterous to 
regard the Mosaic record as an allegory, and quite as 
absurd — though great names have honored the exposi- 
tion — to resolve the facts stated in the first few chapters 
in Genesis, into myths ; unless we are philosophically 
at liberty to have recourse to such a solution whenever 
a difficulty arises which we cannot explain, or facts dis- 
turb our fond conceits. If it were not wholly improb- 
able that Moses, while professing to relate matters of 
fact, on the authority of which his own legislative char- 
acter was founded, would interweave his narrative with 
allegorical and legendary representations, it is sufficient 
for us to know that those statements which men, in 
their superior wisdom, attempt to invalidate, are referred 
to in other parts of the sacred writings as of historical 
authority.* 

It is clear, from the Mosaic record, that there was as 
marked a difference in the offerings of Cain and Abel 
as in their secular employments ; in God's consequent 
dealings with them as in their treatment of one another ; 
in the end of their days as in their dispositions and ac- 
tions : and if some of the particulars of the record may 

* 2 Cor. xi. 3. 1 Tim. ii. 14. 



16 THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 

be legitimately rejected as fabulous or even figurative, the 
rest cannot be received on the authority of Inspiration : 
and if Cain and Abel were not the sons of Adam, who 
were their parents ? Whence the first man ? How 
came the earth to be peopled V The want of an au- 
thentic record of man's primeval state, were presump- 
tive evidence against the existence of a Creator. Cer- 
tain it is, however, that to reject the Mosaic record is 
to discard the authority of the whole Bible ; and not 
only so, it is to reject facts which philosophers cannot 
dispute without being driven to the most fanciful con- 
clusions ; and which must be admitted, if we would ac- 
count, w T ith any show of rationality, for the phenomena 
of the world — man's depravity not excepted. Yet, if 
this be admitted — and whether Christianity be true or 
false, it may not consistently be denied while the facts 
of experience remain — a presumption is at once estab- 
lished in favor of that remedial system which Christi- 
anity unfolds. 

As Sin and Redemption comprise the leading ideas 
of the whole Bible, so do the Fall and the Recovery 
constitute the two cardinal events in man's history : that 
is, " the death denounced against sin, and the death ap- 
pointed for the Holy One, who, in the fulness of time, 
laid down his life to deliver man from the consequences 
of sin."* The gospel of the grace of God necessarily 
presupposes man's lapse from his original nature into 
an estate of sin and misery. Mysteriously difficult as 
may be the doctrine of original depravity, a right view 
of the Fall, of its guilt and consequences, lies at the basis 
* Magee, vol i, Dis. 2, p. 33. 



THE SOXS OF THE FIRST MAX. 17 

of all right views in Christian theology. Strike from the 
record only a few facts in relation to Adam and his sons, 
and there can be no clear idea of the Christian system, 
nor any just appreciation of the nature and design of 
the Redemption by Christ Jesus. Either the original 
record is literally true, or Christianity is false. 

But not only does the Bible enable us to trace man 
to his origin ; it shows us that from the beginning he 
was wont to render homage to his Creator ; and it is 
remarkable, that the farther we go back in profane his- 
tory, the nearer approach do we find to the pure wor- 
ship of God.* Even in his fall, he did not lose all con- 
sciousness of the claims of God on his devotions and 
obedience. It may be inferred from the record, that the 
sons of the first man were trained to religious services ; 
for it is expressly stated, that " at the end of clays" — 
probably on the Sabbath, which was instituted at the close 
of the six days' work of creation, they " brought an of- 
fering to the Lord."t And as we are able to trace the 
worship of God to the infancy of the world, so even in 
the record of the earliest acts of religious worship, may 
we see that God was then, as he is now, a holy and 
jealous God — satisfied with nothing short of the hum- 
ble and contrite heart ; and that man might make an of- 
fering to God, yet fail of the Divine acceptance. 

There was a striking difference between Cain and 
Abel — a difference in their natural dispositions, rendered 
greater by the dissimilarity in their habits and pursuits, 
— all the difference between a wicked and a righteous 

* Leland's Advantages of Revelation, chap. xi. Shuckford'a Con- 
nection, vol. i. p. 304. f Gen. iv. 34. 

2* 



18 THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 

man, an infidel and a believer ; the one being proud, 
selfish, and malevolent, the other humble, grateful, and 
kind. There was consequently a great difference in 
their offerings ; Cain's being a general acknowledg- 
ment of God as the Creator ; Abel's a sacrifice of atone- 
ment, as to an offended lawgiver. The one offered 
from the persuasion that some act of homage was re- 
quired ; the other from a sense not only of his indebt- 
edness to the Bounteous Giver, but of his own ill de- 
sert and need of pardon. The latter had a reference to 
God's promise of a Redeemer, as well as to the Divine 
requirement ; the former merely to his own dependence, 
and relied therefore on the expression of his gratitude. 
Hence, he offered of the fruits of the ground ; but Abel 
brought " of the firstlings of his flock and of the fat there- 
of." Still, there might have seemed to be no essential 
difference in their devotions, and in either case, the sac- 
rificer himself a truly good man. As we are now una- 
ble to discriminate between the hypocrite and the be- 
liever in their external religious acts, so the one as well 
as the other might have assumed the posture and worn 
the aspect of simple-minded and serious worshippers. 
But God, who sees not as man sees, knew they were 
actuated by different principles ; and accordingly it is 
stated, that while " he had respect to Abel and his offer- 
ing, to Cain and his offering he had not respect ;" be- 
cause, " the sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination to 
the Lord," and " without faith it is impossible to please 
God." 

That the want of faith in " the promised seed" was 
the especial reason for God's rejection of Cain's offer- 



THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAX 1 . 19 

ing, is not a gratuitous supposition. Various explana- 
tions have been attempted, yet none but this to which 
we have referred, will admit of rigid scrutiny. To 
suppose that the difference in the treatment of the broth- 
ers arose from the " different mode of dividing their 
several oblations," is to sanction the view which an an- 
cient enemy to Christianity — Julian the apostate — de- 
rived from the Septuagint translation, in order to repre- 
sent the God of the Christians in an unworthy light; or 
that it was owino; to Cain's not having brought of the first 
and best of his fruits, as Abel did of the firstlings of his 
flock, has almost as little support from the text as the 
fanciful construction of Grotius, that by the firstlings 
is meant the wool of the animal, and by the fat thereof, 
the milk: with hardly less disregard to the text might 
we adopt the conceit of Josephus, that " God was more 
pleased with the spontaneous productions of nature than 
with an offering extorted from the earth by the ingenu- 
ity and force of man."* Xor could the difference have 
been owing to their different moral characters, for we 
have no record of the acceptance of the one and the 
rejection of the other, separate from the nature and cir- 
cumstances of their respective oblations ; much less, then, 
to Cain's design against his brother's life, for this was 
formed subsequently to the rejection of his sacrifice. 
The fact is, the actions of both the brothers in their 
offerings seem to have been, as even Priestley admitted, 
of the same nature, and to have had exactly the same 
meaning. It matters not in what light sacrifices may 
be regarded — whether as gifts, as federal rites, or as 
* Antiq., lib. i. c. 3> 



20 THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 

symbolical actions — the brothers appear on the same 
ground, in the same attitude, and with the same purpose 
of worshipping Him by whom they had been blessed, 
in an offering of their respective possessions. There 
was as clear an acknowledgment of the supremacy and 
benignity of God's providence in the offering of the 
fruits of the earth, as in that of the firstlings of the 
flock ; and whether their gifts were equally valuable or 
not, they were such as respectively belonged to them, 
and in either offering, the expression of gratitude might 
have been significant and forcible, and alike pleasing to 
a being who looks down on the hearts of his worshippers. 

Why then should a distinction have been made in 
their offerings ; and how is the difference in the Divine 
reception of their sacrifices to be explained ? Reason 
cannot answer these questions. All solutions of this 
difficulty which the unassisted mind has devised, are 
contradictious and unsatisfactory. It cannot be resolved 
without the aid of that Volume to which we are indebt- 
ed for the facts in the case. 

We admit, however, that it is contrary to all our pre- 
conceptions, that such a being as God would transfer 
the sins of the sacrificer to his sacrifice : no opinion is 
more arbitrary, or seems to denote grosser superstition ; 
yet all the ancient nations adopted this very notion, and 
in their desire to appease the Divine wrath, ceremonially 
devoted some living victim to God, under the persuasion 
that the sins of the offerers would be imputatively trans- 
ferred to the victim. How can this be accounted for, 
unless all nations received the ordinance from some 
common source ? Man's reason does not teach him 



THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 21 

that God could delight in blood, or in the fat of slain 
beasts ; nor does instinct prompt him to spill for his 
own gratification the blood of an innocent creature ; nor 
could appetite have dictated such an act before man 
was accustomed to the use of animal food, and when, 
on the supposition of animal victims, he must have 
known that they were to be consumed by fire ; nor could 
he have been led by a natural principle of association, 
from the practice of first offering the fruits of the earth 
to animal sacrifices ; for there is no conceivable transi- 
tion from the simple and innocent offerings of fruits, to a 
cruel and unnatural rite. It avails nothing to refer the 
practice to some unaccountable superstition, because 
there could have been no superstitions in the world, un- 
less there had previously existed some true religion : 
nor may we reasonably refer it in the first instance to 
mere superstitious will-worship ; as such it could not 
have been acceptable in the sight of God, much less 
would it afterward have been made so prominent in the 
divinely authorized ritual of the Hebrews, as to shadow 
forth the great atoning sacrifice for sin. Until the giv- 
ing of the Law, no other offering than that of an ani- 
mal, with the single exception of Cain's, is recorded in 
Scripture. The sacrifices of Noah and Abraham, and 
also of Job, were burnt-offerings; and when the law 
was promulgated, the connection between animal sacri- 
fice and atonement was distinctly made known by God's 
own declaration: "The life of the flesh is in the blood., 
and I have given it to you upon the altar, to make 
an atonement for your souls."* 

* Lev. xvii. 11,_ 



22 THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 

Hence the conclusion that Abel's offering was an 
animal victim, and that it had reference to the sacrifice 
of our redemption ; and the manner in which it is in- 
troduced in the narrative — the allusion to a stated time 
for the performance of the duty — clearly indicates the 
pre-existence of this rite ; so that what Abel did, Adam 
must have done. 

If it be admitted, then, that the phraseology in which 
Abel's offering is mentioned, is not conclusive as to the 
nature of his sacrifice, the fact that his parents were 
clothed by the Lord God in the skins of beasts, furnishes 
incidental proof, that in offering an animal victim, 
he followed their example. To those who have not 
reflected on this circumstance, the proof may not be 
obvious. But how came they by their coats of skins ? 
It is not probable that animals died of themselves, 
so soon after their creation ; nor that they were slaugh- 
tered for food, for the grant of animal food was not till 
after the deluge ; nor that Adam, without Divine direc- 
tion, would have ventured to slaughter them for the sake 
of their skins, if indeed such an idea had occurred to him ; 
nor that the Lord God ordered them to be slain for such 
a purpose, when their wool or hair would have answered, 
and could have been procured without injury to their 
lives. It follows, then, that they were slain by Divine 
authority, primarily as victims ; and that the whole of 
the victim was devoted to the purpose of sacrifice, except 
the skin, which our first parents were directed to use as 
covering, and perhaps as a constant memorial of the death 
which their transgression merited, and of the Divine 
mercy by which that death was withheld. Hence it is 



THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 23 

said that " the Lord God made coats of skins and cloth- 
ed them ;" and hence the appointment under the Levit- 
ical economy, that " the priest should have the skin of 
the burnt-offering."* 

In view of such considerations, it is unreasonable to 
regard the institution of sacrifice as a mere human in- 
vention which had its origin in anthropomorphic notions 
of the Deity. Even Priestley, with strange inconsisten- 
cy, found himself obliged to admit, that " on the whole 
it seems most probable that men were instructed by the 
Divine Being himself in this mode of worship, as well 
as taught many other things that were necessary to their 
subsistence and comfort."f 

If, then, the ordinance of sacrifice may be referred to 
so early a period in the history of man, it must have 
been instituted by God in consequence of the fall ; nor 
is it to be presumed that God would have instituted such 
an ordinance without imparting to fallen man some in- 
sight into its nature and design ; otherwise he would have 
been left in ignorance of the mode of his reconciliation 
with God, and his observance of a rite that he did not 
understand, instead of being a religious act, would have 
been an act of superstition. Most probably, therefore, it 
was explained in connection with the promised seed of 
the woman : the devotement of an animal victim prac- 
tically exhibiting the mode in which that mortal part 
was to be bruised, as the substitute of the sinner. Un- 
less an explanatory revelation had accompanied the first 
made promise, it is impossible to account for the wo- 
man's remarkable declaration on the birth of her first son : 
* Lev. vii. 8. f See his note on Gen. iv. 3. 



24 THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 

" I have gotten," not "a man," but "the man ;" that is, the 
God-man, the Angel of Jehovah ! and quite as difficult to 
account for the facts, that even in the gentile world the 
ordinance of sacrifice was associated with some vaarue 
notions respecting a Divine victim. But if Christ was 
the " Lamb of God slain from the foundation of the 
world," a memorial was then needed, and none could 
have been more suitable and expressive than that of an- 
imal sacrifice. It was a sacramental memorial answer- 
ing to the gospel ordinance, to show forth the Lord's 
death until he come. 

Abel's offering, therefore, was such as became a fallen 
creature who acknowledged his apostasy, and felt his need 
of an atonement; but Cain's, instead of being a piacular 
sacrifice, such as had been required by God and estab- 
lished by usage, was simply eucharistic — as to a Being 
whom he had never offended. Hence Paul not only 
places the blood of Abel's sacrifice in direct comparison 
with the blood of Christ, which he styles pre-eminently 
" the blood of sprinkling," and represents both " as 
speaking good things" in different degrees ■;* he draws 
a distinction between the brothers' respective sacrifices : 
" By faith Abel offered unto God a more excellent sac- 
rifice than Cain ;"t and why more excellent, but that 
it was distinguished by faith ? What faith ? — a general 
persuasion that God would accept his offering ? This 
cannot be, for the cause of Cain's disappointment was 
that his was not accepted. It was expressed, then, by 
Abel's bloody piacular sacrifice ; and as the Scriptures 
assign no other object of this faith than the promise of a 
* Hoi), xii. 24. t Heb - xi. 4 « 



THE SOXS OF THE FIRST MAN. 25 

Redeemer, his faith implies that its object, as well as the 
medium of its expression, had been distinctly revealed, 
and was in effect a prospective faith in the coming Messiah 
— like that "by which," as Paul said, " the elders ob- 
tained a good report ;" while Cain's bloodless offering 
betrayed his unbelief in the need of a vicarious expia- 
tion — the inmost sentiment of his heart being, that it 
was enough for him to thank God for his mercies, not 
to humble himself on account of his sins, much less de- 
plore his apostasy. 

As every one, then, should honor God with his sub- 
stance according as he has been prospered ; so no one 
who does not come before him in the name of the great 
anti-typical Lamb, can scripturally hope in his favor. 
The condition of our acceptance is virtually the same 
as when Abel laid the hand of his faith upon the head 
of the bleeding victim. Since man, by transgressing the 
Divine law, had exposed himself to the penalty of death, 
spiritual as well as temporal, no religion could have been 
suitable to him and his posterity which did not respect 
the honor of that law, and aim to restore him to the 
prerogatives and felicities of his original nature. Being 
guilty, degenerate, ruined, it is certain he can never 
make satisfaction to Divine justice, nor restore himself 
to holiness ; and therefore, Christianity, in its remedial 
and sanctifying agency, is true to man's condition as a 
fallen being ; true to the promise that the seed of the 
woman should bruise the head of the serpent ; true to 
the great import of the early institution of sacrifice. He 
whom we regard as the great sacrifice for sin, was an- 
nounced immediately after man's fatal apostasy, shad- 

3 



26 THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 

owed forth by the piacular sacrifices which relieved 
the fears and sustained the hopes of successive genera- 
tions; pointed out by Moses, and with gradually increas- 
ing clearness by his successors in the prophetic office ; 
and if our faith is stronger or more clearly defined than 
Abel's, his was not the less acceptable in the sight of God, 

In what way God manifested his acceptance of Abel's 
offering, is not stated ; yet as there was but one sign of 
the acceptance of such offerings, it was probably by fire 
coming down from above, and consuming the sacrifice 
— as, when Moses offered the first great burnt-offerings 
according to the law ; when Gideon offered upon the 
rock ; when David stayed the plague ; when Solomon 
dedicated the temple ; or when Elijah put to confusion 
the worshippers of Baal. To " accept one's burnt- 
offering" was, according to the Hebrew sense of the 
phrase, " to turn it into ashes ;" whereby it was de- 
clared and understood that the innocent was accepted 
in room of the guilty — the sacrifice having- sustained 
the vengeance that would otherwise have fallen on the 
sinner. The Divine acceptance of Abel's offering must 
have been signified in some decided and unequivocal 
manner. Cain at once perceived that his own was re- 
jected ; but, instead of humbling himself on account of 
his sin, or being angry with himself that he could have 
presumed to palm such a sacrifice on the holy and heart- 
searching God, he is strangely out of temper. His hard 
thoughts of God, his envious if not vindictive feelings 
toward his brother, may be read in the expression of 
his fearfully altered countenance. 



THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 27 

But God, instead of treating him according to his ill 
deserts, manifested his forbearance ; instead of rebuking 
him in sore displeasure, condescended to reason with him ; 
and in so doing, laid down the essential principles of 
his moral government — principles by which he himself 
is necessarily governed in his judgment of men, and 
which, as he cannot deny himself, they can never vio- 
late with impunity. 

" Why art thou wroth ? and why is thy countenance 
fallen'?" — God can have no pleasure in his death. 
Cain shall have no just reason to complain. If he will 
not listen to the voice of kind expostulation, his con- 
duct will be only the more inexcusable. " If thou doest 
well, shalt thou not be accepted?" As though God had 
said: You blame me for having had respect to Abel's 
offering ; but if you had done well, your offering would 
have been accepted also ; or if you should now bring 
an offering in penitence and faith, you shall be accepted. 
There is room for repentance, and hope for the guilty. 
" But if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door :" you 
will be tempted to greater sins ; you will go on in the 
error of your ways, nor will you be able to escape the 
punishment due to your sins : there is an inseparable 
bond between sin and punishment. 

It has been supposed that, as the original word here 
translated sin, may be rendered, in accordance with the 
tenor of other passages in the Old Testament, a sin- 
offering, or a sacrifice for sin, there was an intimation to 
Cain of the Divine mercy, on condition of his making a 
sin-offering in the faith of a Redeemer. Certainly it is 
not unreasonable to conclude, from God's approbation 



28 THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 

of the one sacrifice and rejection of the other, that he 
rebuked Cain for not conforming to that species of sac- 
rifice which his brother had offered. We have already 
seen that the difference in their sacrifices was the ground 
of that distinction which God made in his treatment of 
the sacrificers ; and if so, it follows that he enforced the 
observance of animal sacrifice. The general sense of 
the passage is, however, that if Cain did as he ought, 
he would be accepted ; if not, God could not pardon 
4iim, nor could he himself arrest the downward course 
of transgression, or preclude its consequences : and the 
experience of the world ever since has borne testimony 
to the fact, that whenever any man does not do as he 
ought, sin lies at the door. Skeptics do but betray their 
own ignorance of the natural course of things in this 
world, or their wilful disregard of the teachings of facts, 
when they cavil at the Divine authority of the Mosaic 
record, on the ground that death was made the penalty 
of merely eating an apple ; and that Cain incurred the 
Divine displeasure merely because he did not sacrifice 
a lamb ! Adam's sin was in itself an overt act of rebel- 
lion, deranging, so far as its effects might extend, the 
moral government of the world : Cain's sin was not 
only the violation of a known injunction ; it implied the 
questioning of God's right to his obedience, and an im- 
peachment of God's holiness. 

The father, by his sin, parted with Paradise ; and the 
son, by his, parted with peace. The former humbly 
availed himself of the benefit of the promised seed ; the 
latter not merely neglected to observe parental precept 
and example, but showed his disbelief of the Divine 



THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 29 

promise, and his dissatisfaction with God's appointed 
ordinance. The former, notwithstanding his sin, set an 
example of penitence and faith ; the latter, through the 
pride and selfishness of his heart, instituted will-worship, 
and by his offering set an example of infidelity, and of 
insubordination to Heaven's rule. Still, God remon- 
strated with him ; and it is evident from this recorded 
fact, that notwithstanding his excuseless conduct, he, 
equally with his brother, might have been at last ac- 
cepted, had he only repented, and, in the hope of the 
promise, brought an offering for sin. But in him we 
have a picture of the woful change which sin had 
wrought in man's original nature. The fact that Abel's 
offering was accepted, seems to have stirred up in his 
bosom every evil passion. He was angry at his brother 
for having done well ; and even the Divine remonstrance, 
instead of softening his feelings, served rather to exas- 
perate his spirit. This is the not unusual result of ex- 
postulation with those who, while conscious of having 
done wrong, are yet unwilling to do right. God's min- 
isters can do no more than reason with sinful men, and 
warn them of the error of their ways ; and if they 
will not heed the voice of faithful reproof and affection- 
ate warning, their guilt is aggravated, as Cain's was, and 
their case may be quite as hopeless. 

We are prone to think that all is well with one, so 
long as he is attentive to the duties of his calling. 
Man's relations to his God are practically deemed of 
no importance compared with his relations to the com- 
munity. He may live in the neglect of all religious du- 
ties, yet feel himself not unworthy of the Divine accept- 



30 THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 

ance. Pie may train up his children to respect the 
rules of society, but to teach them to observe the ordi- 
nances of Heaven is not, in his view, essential to their 
welfare. Yet the very first sin, after man's fall, was a 
disregard of sacred matters ! This was followed by 
envy and anger, by murmurings against God, and by 
malice, which fast ripened into hate, and terminated in 
a brother's bloody death. So may the ruinous course 
of many a young man be traced to a neglect of ordi- 
nances, which he had been taught to respect, or to a 
violation of the Sabbath, which he had been brought up 
to observe. Philosophy may trace crime to unbridled 
passions ; but the Bible teaches us that all evils flow 
from sin. Man's heart cannot be right toward his neigh- 
bor, unless right toward God. He who withholds from 
God his dues, may at any time deprive his neighbor of 
his rights. He who reverences God, will respect God's 
image in man. He who looks up to God with a grate- 
ful, lowly heart, is free from " envy, hatred, and malice, 
and all uncharitableness." Loving God, he loves his 
neighbor as himself. 

Sinful men, however, are apt to be unreasonable in 
relation to the claims of God. Not only must they be 
permitted to serve God in their own way, but they 
expect to be accepted — no matter whether their offer- 
ing has been merely the homage of the lips, a conscience- 
quieting compliance with some religious custom, or some 
beggarly charity as an atonement for a life habitually 
careless and undevout ; as though God had not a right to 
prescribe the way in which he is to be worshipped — a 
valid claim on all that we have and are ; or could be 



THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 31 

pleased with a heartless, faithless sacrifice ! Of all who 
presume on the Divine acceptance, they are the most 
deceived, who, overlooking the manner in which God 
has required us to worship him, or the only grounds on 
which, in consistency with his high perfections, he can 
justify the sinner — make a merit of their formal observ- 
ances, and ostentatious almsgiving, or barren virtues: 
and the reason may be found in the fact that, just in 
proportion as men make a merit before God of any thing 
they do, are they blind to the spirituality of his law, 
and to their own guilt and ill deserts ; while any attempt 
to shake their vain confidence, often leads them to for- 
tify their ground by the additional consideration, that 
God can be neither just nor good, if they are not to be 
accepted. Here is the origin of hard thoughts of God, 
and of all repugnance to the principles of his holy word : 
man's desire to be accepted without being obliged to 
renounce the preconceptions of his darkened mind, and 
the prepossessions of his depraved heart. That is the 
darling religion for fallen men, which will serve to quiet 
them in their formality and worldliness. Thus it is that 
corrupt systems of religious faith so often displace the 
religion of the Bible, and that the Bible itself, in some 
instances, comes to be rejected : thus, also, that men 
often go on in the ways of their heart, yet hope all will 
be well ; and that, while knowingly neglecting God's 
requirements, they aim to exculpate themselves. This, 
indeed, is a sad feature of our fallen nature — to attempt 
to justify one's self, even when consciously in the wrong ; 
to be angry at those whom we have injured, rather than 
to reproach ourselves — like the criminal who condemns 



32 THE SONS OP THE FIRST MAN. 

the laws which condemn him, and the judge who pro 
nounces his sentence, rather than condemn himself; 
and hence the sinner is so often led to question the rec- 
titude of the law, rather than admit his own blamewor- 
thiness — to think that God is a hard master, and will 
do him wrong, should he not be finally accepted ! This 
is more than unreasonable — it is impiety and rebellion 
— a determination to put off the claims of God with 
any thing, and yet to demand heaven as a right ! 

In like manner, unworthy thoughts of God are not 
unfrequently suggested by the difference in his provi- 
dential dealings with individuals. Overrating their own 
merits, or rather unmindful of the fact that they are sin- 
ners, men are prone to give way to feelings of irritable 
dejection — virtually accusing Him who made them, of 
being either arbitrary in his procedures, or partial in 
the bestowment of his favors. So they who, by their 
improvidences, have precluded their own advancement 
in life, are apt to harbor invidious sentiments toward 
those whose wise forethought has, under favor of Provi- 
dence, led to their success. It is not always necessary 
to injure our neighbor in his person or property, before 
we can incur his displeasure : to do what he has not 
done — what he will not or cannot do — is, under cer- 
tain circumstances, an offence to his self-love, which he 
may not easily pardon. Similar feelings are sometimes 
expressed in relation to those whose prayerful diligence 
in the cause of religion has been signally owned and 
blessed of Heaven. 

But to blame Providence, or to envy the righteous ; 
to quarrel with those rebukes which, by our own sins 



THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 33 

we have brought upon ourselves ; or to be indignant 
with those who, by abounding in the fruits of righteous- 
ness, have rendered themselves, through Jesus Christ, 
approved in the sight of God — is, in either respect, the 
sign of a bad heart — it is the disposition of Cain — and 
oftener betrayed by the lowering look, than we may be 
forward to suspect or willing to admit. " The foolish- 
ness of man perverteth his way :" still worse — after 
perverting his own way, then " his heart fretteth against 
the Lord !" Though his own ways are not equal and 
right, yet, to shield himself from self-condemnation, and 
justify himself in his envy and spleen, he says in his 
heart that " God's ways are not equal." Cain-like in 
his feelings, he will neither do well himself, nor allow 
others to do well ; neither " go into the kingdom himself, 
nor suffer them that are entering to go in !" Even the 
work of " casting out devils" must be done according to 
his manner of " sacrificing," or it is not well done. To 
anticipate him in works of love and mercy, is to be 
exposed to his indignant rebuke. Such is the disposi- 
tion of the carnal heart, unhappily oftener betrayed in 
religious matters than in secular affairs. 

But, however men, through the force of their pride 
and selfishness, may discern in the ways of Providence 
what they regard as just cause for dissatisfaction and 
complaint, God has a perfect right to do what he will 
with his own, and to bestow his favors on whom he 
pleases. To withhold from him this right, is to deny 
his sovereignty over his creatures, and, that by reason 
of sin, we have forfeited all claim on his goodness. 
Still, though God is under no obligation to make all 



34 THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN, 

his creatures equal in respect to their natural gifts and 
advantages in life, yet "is he no respecter of persons :" 
no one is favored by him more than another, on account 
of something personal. Hating nothing that he has 
made, the souls of his creatures are equally dear to him ; 
and whatever provision has been made for the salvation 
of one, is made for all. " He has fashioned all their 
hearts alike" — is not willing that any should perish — 
denies his favor to none unless they have forfeited it by 
their own acts, and becomes the enemy only of those 
who " hate him without a cause." In relation to Cain, 
God, so far from having been actuated by any personal 
antipathy or prejudice, acted according to the established 
law of his kingdom. He could not have had respect to 
Cain and his offering, without relinquishing his claim to 
the heartfelt homage of his intelligent creation, hood- 
winking vice and hypocrisy, sanctioning unbelief in the 
promised seed, and doing fatal injustice to Abel and his 
offering. To have made no difference between their 
respective offerings, and expressed his approbation of 
both alike, would have been to encourage the one. in 
his wickedness and infidelity, and discourage the other 
in his righteousness and faith. To suppose that God 
could have failed to discriminate between the sacrifi- 
ces, is to conceive that he might confound moral dis- 
tinctions, and break the sceptre of his own uncreated 
rule. 

As Cain, then, had no just reason to be angry with 
Gocl, neither has any man now. Unchangeable in his 
nature and perfections, God adheres to the same high 
principles in the administration of his moral govern- 



THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 35 

ment. He can no more be partial than he can be false. 
While his laws are unchangeable, his ways cannot be 
unequal. He " has written unto us the great things of 
his law" — told us his will and our duty — set before 
us life and death, blessing and cursing. Each soul is 
held responsible for its own acts ; and in his judgment 
of men he will be influenced by no personal considera- 
tions, no partiality or prejudice, no respect whatever 
either to their rank, their riches, their business, or their 
power. Righteous in his judgment, he will judge men, 
not as they judge one another, but as they ought to be 
judged — according to their real moral character; he 
will treat them, not with any reference to the things for 
which, through their pride and worldliness, they are 
wont to esteem one another, but as they ought to be 
treated — according to their moral deserts. No sinner 
can be saved but by the grace of God ; yet all will at 
last be judged according to their works ; and thus, 
whether men be saved or lost, there will be no ground 
for either boasting or complaining. It was in well- 
doing that Abel obtained eternal life : his life and works 
bore witness to his faith, and the righteousness of him 
in whom he believed, was the ground for his justification 
before God. Hence the Divine announcement to Cain : 
" If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted ? And 
if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door" — unfor- 
given sin — ever-besetting sin — changeless, indestructi- 
ble sin — which will follow hard after thee whithersoever 
thou goest — go down with thee through the gates of 
death, and rise with thee, and appear as a swift witness 
against thee in judgment ! Such is the great principle 



36 THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN, 

of God's government: "He will render to every man 
according to his deeds." If any then be lost, whose 
will be the fault ? Alas ! damned soul, hadst thou only 
done well, thou mighest have been a glorified saint. 

Cain's jealousy of his brother was probably enhanced 
through fear of losing whatever privileges and rights 
belonged to him as the first-born ; but God did not 
intend this, and therefore told him that his acceptance 
of Abel's offering did not transfer to him the birth- 
right. In this respect also may the Past be seen in the 
Present. God's acceptance of the offerings of the righ- 
teous does not alter the distinctions which his provi- 
dence has made among men. The wicked may be 
prospered, the righteous may not succeed. God does not 
change his laws to obstruct the former in their wicked- 
ness, nor to favor the latter in their well-doing. The 
wicked may live on in prosperity, the righteous may be 
cut off by the hand of violence. The difference between 
them is in their hearts, not in their outward circum- 
stances. It cannot be known from God's outward deal- 
ings with them whether they are righteous or wicked. 
Who would not suppose that so righteous a man as 
Abel would have been shielded from all harm ? Shall 
the good be thus requited ? Shall it be told in all com- 
ing generations that God suffered Abel to be cruelly 
slaughtered ? and that Cain — the murderer ! — was per- 
mitted to live ? The first death — that of a righteous 
man ! The first slain — a righteous man ! Who shall 
describe the emotions of his parents as they hung over 
his bloody corse ? What must have been their conster- 
nation, their angtiisfe and despair, when they beheld 



THE SONS OP THE FIR JT MAN. 37 

death for the first time, and then in the livid, mutilated 

features of their beloved son ! — 

" Alas ! both for the deed, and for the cause ! 
But have I now seen death 1 Is this the way 
I must return to native dust 1 Oh, sight 
Of terror, foul and ugly to behold ! 
Horrid to think, how horrible to feel ! " 

We know what a sore evil death is to the father, 
when it strikes down before him the hope and joy of 
his heart ; but we cannot enter into the feelings of Adam, 
unless we could with him recall the bliss of Eden, and 
realize the consequences of his sin, not merely in his 
banishment from those peaceful scenes, but in the en- 
trance of crime and death into the relations of his family. 
His sons? — the one murdered! the other — his first- 
born — the murderer! Sad effects of his apostasy! 
enough to have brought his own sin back to his re- 
membrance with whelming force. And who shall say 
that it was not so ordered, that Adam might have a deeper 
sense of the evils of his sin, and feel that there was no 
peace for him but in the hope of the promise, and final 
deliverance from the power of the grave ? 

The memory of that bloody act cannot be obliterated. 
It is the first death, and the death of one who had led 
an upright life — whose sacrifice to God had just been 
accepted ! What a triumph for the Wicked One ! 
what an insidious weapon does it furnish for him to 
wield in assailing- virtue, and in encouraging vice and 
crime ! How disastrous its effects in all future times ! 
Shall we say it is no wonder wickedness increased as 
men multiplied ? that men grew bold in iniquity until 
God repented that he had made man ? No ; let us not 

4 



38 THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 

so wrong God, or be so unmindful of our high relations. 
Cain lived on ; but who that reflects for a moment, 
would not rather have been in the place of his murdered 
brother ? Cain lived only to work out his own punish- 
ment. God put a mark on him, that all men might 
know and shun the fratricide, and that the remem- 
brance of his bloody deed might serve as a warning in 
all coming times. Men need warnings against irreligion 
and crime, as well as incentives to faith and piety. We 
are not told when or how Cain died. He had been 
guilty of a woful sin — doubly aggravated by his dis- 
regard of Heaven's own expostulations. He had lied 
in the very presence of God, to conceal his crime, and 
insultingly replied to God's inquiry ; in killing his 
brother, he had virtually aimed a ruthless blow at God 
himself! and it is enough for us to know that his life 
was a hell on earth — the prelude of a deeper, darker 
hell beyond the grave. 

So much for having given way to evil passions — for 
not having done as he ought to have done before re- 
morse precluded godly sorrow, and the stern demands 
of justice silenced the voice of mercy. Ye who neither 
fear God nor regard man ; ye who say in your hearts, 
" What profit shall we have if we pray unto him?" and 
act on the presumption that religion is vain ; ye who 
are beginning to " eat of the fruit of your own ways" — 
say, what means that mark on Cain's forehead? whence 
and how came it there — so deeply engraven that it can 
never be effaced ? 

There can be no security against the most awful vio- 
lation of God's commandments, but in timely repen- 



THE SONS OP THE FIRST MAN. 39 

tance. The way of sin is downward by accelerated 
steps ; and no one can say, when he begins to do 
wrong, where he will stop ! Hence sin brings with it 
its own punishment. The longer one goes on to sin, 
the greater obstacles will he encounter, the more bitter 
will be his disappointments, and the deeper his convic- 
tion that God has a controversy with him, until he is at 
last forced, as it were, to reiterate the exclamation, " My 
punishment is greater than I can bear !" 

There is no peace to the wicked. Whatever their 
creed or their devices, they cannot alter the constitution 
of things ; cannot be happy while living in the neglect 
of known duty ; cannot find peace and safety in depart- 
ing from God, and violating the laws of their moral 
being. At some period of their history, their sin will 
find them out — be charged home on them — show it- 
self in their woe-worn visage, their anguished spirit, 
their fearful expectation of coming wrath : if not here, 
hereafter it shall find them out, and then "bite like a 
serpent, and sting like an adder." 

The record does not authorize us to affix to Cain's 
punishment the idea of eternal. The future life was 
not at so early a period clearly revealed, and every thing 
then was concealed under the veil of temporary good 
and evil ; nor is it to be inferred from the fact that 
Cain's life was spared, that blood does not demand 
blood. " Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall 
his blood be shed," was the subsequent ordinance of 
Heaven ; but, at the period to which we refer, Cain 
could not have died by the hand of man, unless it had 
been either by an act of private revenge, or by the hand 



40 THE SONS OP THE FIRST MAN. 

of his own father. For this reason, in compassion to 
his father, God might have spared Cain's life. But 
neither the fact that God did not strike him dead, nor 
even intimate to him, so far as we know, that awful 
eternity which he had prepared for himself, can lessen 
our impression of God's wrath and curse on his devoted 
head. It appears to me that no one can duly ponder 
the record of Cain's punishment, without the conviction 
that " it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the 
living God." What a doom ! what a spectacle of un- 
utterable misery ! Deprived of God's favor and bless- 
ing — cut off from all means of hope — cursed from the 
earth, with no place to rest his head, or in which to hide 
his guilty face — abandoned of God, and an outcast 
from men ! his life in perpetual danger, and he a terror 
to himself ! Be it so, that the mark was primarily de- 
signed that no man should lay violent hands on him ; 
yet it was also that all men might take warning from 
his forlorn condition : and with the full blaze of Reve- 
lation streaming upon our page, what does such a spec- 
tacle of impenitent misery image to our mind but the 
condition of the lost soul, " punished with everlasting 
destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the 
glory of his power?" 

Here, also, we can hardly fail to perceive how imper- 
tinent are all those speculative inquiries with which men 
so often embarrass their own minds, and obstruct the 
force of truth. Though God foresaw the issue of Cain's 
anger, and did not interfere to prevent his crime, except 
so far as to remonstrate with him, and warn him against 
the consequences of impenitence and unbelief, yet is 



THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 41 

Cain held to be guilty, and punished with unrelenting 
severity. But if these events were brought about in 
accordance with the Divine purposes, how could Cain 
be regarded as culpable? If God could have easily 
prevented that tragic deed, does it not reflect on his 
holiness and goodness that he did not? How much 
better for the brothers had they been upheld in virtuous 
devotion to the will of God ! Yes ; and how much bet- 
ter for Adam and his posterity had he only been re- 
strained from eating the forbidden fruit ! But shall we 
implicate our Maker in the sins of his creatures, because 
they might not have sinned had they not been left to 
themselves ? As well say that all darkness is from the 
sun, because it is always dark when the sun is gone ! 
Or shall we affirm that, as the fall was in accordance 
with the Divine purposes, man could not have been to 
blame ? With as much truth may we say, that a Being 
of infinite skill and knowledge could not have so formed 
man, that in all the circumstances in which he might be 
placed he should possess and exercise moral agency ! 
If man could have been constituted a moral agent, there 
is nothing unreasonable in supposing, nor any thing in- 
compatible with his personal responsibility in admitting, 
that his Creator might have determined that, in the per- 
fect exercise of his moral powers, he should act in such 
a manner, and form such a character. Certain it is that 
God made man upright : this might be made to appear 
on grounds independently of the data with which the 
record has furnished us ; and had man retained his 
fealty to God, what a glorious world would this have 
been! But he did not, and hence his expulsion from 

4* 



42 THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 

the meet abode of innocence and bliss ; his toils and 
trials; his bitter disappointment in his first-born — his 
agony over the grave of Abel ! 

O mortal ! cease to be wise above what is written. 
Intrude not " where angels dare not tread" — thou canst 
not be as God. Remember thou art fallen — lost to 
hope, unless his grace interpose to lead thee to a Re- 
deemer from the power of death and hell. 

Be it there is mystery in the origin of evil ; there is 
none in the original promise that the seed of the woman 
should bruise the head of the serpent. This serves to 
light up the darkness that envelops the Fall : as when 
the noble forest of the Pyrenees fell before the con- 
suming blast, a pure stream of silver gushed from earth's 
bosom, and revealed for the first time those mines after- 
ward so celebrated and so enriching to the nations ; so, 
amid the ruins of the Fall, may we catch a glimpse of 
that wondrous plan since developed, and now gathering 
together the elect of God from the ends of the earth. 

Let it be admitted, too, that the course of God's prov- 
idence toward the righteous often seems mysterious ; yet 
may the death of Abel serve to guide us amid the per- 
plexities, and succor us amid the trials, and cheer us 
amid the sorrows of this world of sin and misery. That 
event was ordered in infinite wisdom and love ! By 
that event God designed to teach us certain great lessons : 
that this world is not the final home of the righteous ; 
that the time and manner of one's death are of little ac- 
count, so long as he is prepared to die ; that it is greatly 
better to suffer wrong at the hands of a brother, than to 
do wrong ; that the righteous must not look for their 



THE S0XS OF THE FIRST MAX. 43 

reward on earth ; that faith is the great criterion of man's 
religious character, not his exemption from the ills of 
life ; that, though the wicked ma}' outlive the good, it 
is owing to the infinite forbearance of a holy God ; that 
a wicked man is more to be pitied in his long life, than 
the righteous in his speedy death ; that it is infinitely 
better to die with the mark of the Lamb on our forehead, 
than to live with the mark of Cain. 

We are wont to speak of the power of Christian faith ; 
how it can exorcise self from the human bosom, and 
render a man dead to the world with its affections and 
lusts, and imbue his mind with sentiments of the noblest 
charity and most sublime devotion. We go back in 
thought to those times in the history of God's people, 
when Zechariah's blood was poured out in the court of 
the house of the Lord ; when Stephen yielded up his 
spirit amid the missiles and execrations of an infuriated 
rabble ; or when such men as Huss and Cranmer sealed 
their testimony in the fires of the stake : this same faith 
animated righteous Abel, and he was first of that no- 
3le army of martyrs ! The first, too, to enter heaven — 
thither to be followed by all holy men in each succeed- 
ing generation of the church of God ; the first fruits 
of that victory achieved by him who " through death 
destroyed him that had the power of death." 

How does it serve to divest death of its terrors, when 
*ve reflect that he who first tasted death was a righteous 
man ; and that death to him was but " a subterranean 
avenue to bliss !" How does it serve to animate our 
faith in him who offered up his life on Calvary's cross 
— when we consider that it was by faith in him, Abel 



44 THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 

offered up a more acceptable sacrifice than Cain ; and 
that, though the first to die, he was also the first saved 
from the power of death through faith in him whose 
blood now " speaketh better things" than even the blood 
of righteous Abel — telling us that he who should come, 
has come ; that he who was the hope of the promise, is 
now formed in the soul of every believer, " the hope of 
glory." 

We plume ourselves on the lights of civilization and 
philosophy, and hail every discovery in science and new 
phase of political economy and religious belief, as so 
many new and more potent means of elevating man's 
views, and improving his condition. The Past with its 
teachings is despised, because man was then only in the 
infancy of his race, and this mighty mind within us had 
not begun to be conscious of its giant powers. But 
what was the history of the Hebrew nation but the grad- 
ual unfolding of that idea which was embodied in Abel's 
sacrifice ? What is the Christian dispensation, which has 
given birth to such wondrous changes and noble achieve- 
ments, but the fuller development of that same idea ? 
To what do we owe all that ennobles existence and glad- 
dens life, and succors want, and sympathizes with sor- 
row, and irradiates the darkness of the grave, but to the 
hope of that promise which was embodied in Abel's sac- 
rifice ? Christianity were wanting in its first and most 
essential evidence, if it could not be traced back even 
to man's fall. No religion can be a suitable religion for 
us which was not essentially the religion of the first 
man's family. I want no such religion if I am not a 
sinner against God ; and if I am, then I must have the 



THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAX. 45 

religion which was provided for the first sinner on earth. 
If the first man that died was saved by faith in Christ, 
then his was a heaven-born religion, and that religion 
will save me. If the first born son into the world was 
not accepted in his sacrifice, because he rejected the 
promise and presumed on his own merits, then there is 
no salvation for any one of Adam's race w 7 ho rejects the 
faith in Christ. 

Adam's family, indeed, presents in miniature a pic- 
ture of our race ; their labors and sorrows, hopes and 
fears, loves and hate, goodness and wickedness, faith 
and unbelief. As they sighed when the thought of 
Paradise recurred to their minds, so does man now sigh 
for a peace which the w 7 orld cannot give. There is 
now in every family the same susceptibilities, and the 
same toils and trials. The evil now brinor their own 
offerings, such as their pride suggests, or their worldly 
interests dictate ; the good now come before God in re- 
liance, not on themselves, but on him whom Abel's sacri- 
fice prefigured ; the good still suffer from the evil, and the 
evil wrong their neighbor, and make haste to shed inno- 
cent blood ; the good still enjoy the gratulations of con- 
science, and the evil writhe under the premonitory in- 
flictions of coming wrath. 

Abels still die ; and Cains still live ! But Abel's re- 
ligion lives ! yes ; and, blessed be God ! lights many an 
altar, and is transforming many a soul into the re-created 
image of its God ! So, too, does Cain's religion sur- 
vive. Reluctant as some may be to admit, painful as it 
is to reflect on this fact, it cannot be denied. Cain's 
unbelief, Cain's selfishness, Cain's diabolical malevo- 



46 THE SONS OF THE FIRST MAN. 

lence, still live ! ever causing lamentation and woe 

scattering " firebrands, arrows, and death !" 

They who are absorbed in their own schemes, and 
respect not the rights and interests of others ; they who 
serve God in a way that he has not appointed, or reject 
the sacrifice which he has provided for lost sinners ; 
they who envy and hate the righteous, and violate any 
of Heaven's statutes to gratify unhallowed passions and 
compass selfish ends; — are, at heart, even as Cain was, 
though, in the infatuation of their self-love, they are 
blinded to their real moral character. 

In fact, there is but one scriptural division of the 
human family — the Cains and the Abels; the wicked 
and the righteous ; the rejectors and the followers of 
the Lamb ! This division is most serious. It de- 
notes a radical difference in men, though they are all 
"by nature children of wrath" — a difference in the 
character of their affections, in the nature of their 
faith, and in the foundation of their hopes — a difference 
which will fit them for totally different conditions and 
employments in the world to come ; and which, as in 
the case of the brothers, betokens a final separation — 
wide as the gulf between heaven and hell ! 

Men may deny this division ; but they cannot obstruct 
this approaching separation. Sin lies at the door of 
every man who has not done what he ought to have done 
— ready to come upon him, and overpower him, and 
hand him over to the judgment ! 



47 



THE PATRIARCH'S DEATH-BED. 

Having heard that Jacob was sick unto death. 
Joseph, taking with him his two sons, hastens to his 
father's bed-side. Years of absence, with all the cor- 
rupting influences of prosperity, had not impaired the 
filial regard of the one, nor had the paralyzing weight 
of years deadened in the bosom of the other his pater- 
nal affections. ' Let him live,' is the lansaiao-e of Jo- 
seph's heart ; ' O God of my fathers ! let him live until 
I can reach him. Let me and mine receive his parting 
benediction. If his days be numbered, let me at least 
have the melancholy satisfaction of closing his eyes in 
death !' 

He arrives in time, and meets with a cordial recep- 
tion from his sick and dying parent. And " Who are 
these?" inquired the old man. " They are my sons," 
answered Joseph, " whom God hath given me in this 
place." — "And Israel said, Bring them, I pray thee, 
unto me, and I will bless them :" God's goodness has 
not only prevented my fears, but exceeded my hopes. 
He has been indeed gracious to me : " Joseph, I had 
not thought to see thy face ; and, lo, God hath showed 
me also thy seed." — "And he blessed Joseph, and 
said, God, before whom my fathers Abraham and Isaac 



48 the patriarch's death-bed. 

did walk ; the God which fed me all my life long unto 
this day, the Angel which redeemed me from all evil, 
bless the lads; and let my name be named on them, 
and the name of my fathers Abraham and Isaac ; and 
let them grow into a multitude in the midst of the earth. 
And he blessed them that day, saying, In thee shall 
Israel bless, saying, God make thee as Ephraim and as 
Manasseh."* 

This scene represents the Patriarch to us in an en- 
gaging light — his irrepressible emotions of joy on be- 
holding Joseph and his sons, his tender solicitude for 
their spiritual welfare, his grateful sense of past mercies, 
his serene confidence in the Divine promises, and his 
tranquillity in view of his approaching dissolution. 

Surely, He whom the patriarch devoutly acknowl- 
edged as his God, was not an ideal, much less a mate- 
rial being. To his eye God must have had a distinctly 
personal and spiritual existence. He was the God be- 
fore whom his fathers had walked, and whom he would 
have his own children obediently and reverently follow 

— the God who had sustained and guided and guarded 
him all his life long, and to whose providence and grace 
he would commit their interests for time and eternity. 

How remarkable that at so early a period of the world 

— long before the era of speculative thought — that old 
man should have had such a clear and definite concep- 
tion of the only living and true God ; such an intelli- 
gent belief in his providence, and so firm and cordial 
a reliance on his faithfulness ! And how does it tend 
to confirm us in the truth of our own theistical senti- 

* Gen. xlviii. 15, 16, 20. 



THE PATRIARCH S DEATH-BED. 49 

ments, when we reflect that He whom we call God, is 
the same gracious Being whom all holy men of old wor- 
shipped ; that He who fed Jacoh, has by the same prov- 
idence ministered to our wants, and that the " Angel 
which redeemed Jacob from all evil," is the same angel 
of the covenant who, in the fulness of time, came into 
our world to redeem us to God ! 

It is this scene to which Paul referred when he said : 
"By faith Jacob, when he was a dying, blessed both the 
sons of Joseph ; and worshipped, leaning upon the top of 
his staff."* Hence, it might be observed, that in our 
approaches to God, it behooves us to draw nigh unto him 
with reverence and godly fear. He is great and " great- 
ly to be feared." Girt with majesty and strength, his 
holiness is as pure as the inaccessible light he inhabits. 
Dwelling in the effulgence of his own uncreated purity, 
before him the angels veil their faces, and bow in pro- 
ibundest adoration. Who can think of that Being who 
comprehends in himself all that is great and pure and 
excellent ; who sits enthroned in all space, and through 
all eternity — at whose fiat the regions of immensity were 
filled with suns and stars and systems ; on whose arm 
the universe hangs, and in whose hand are the lots of 
all beings — and not be well nigh overwhelmed with 
feelings of awe ! 

The Patriarchs were characterized by the reverential 
feelings they cherished toward God ; and thus Jacob, 
aged as he was, and drawing nigh unto death, rose upon 
his knees to worship, though he was obliged to lean on 
the top of his staff. What a spectacle of godliness ! and 
* Heb. xi. 21. 



50 THE PATRIARCH^ DEATH-BED. 

what a reproof to those who, though God has blessed 
them with health, do never assume the attitude of 
devotion even during the solemnities of the sanctuary. 
How little reverence is ofttimes visible even in the house 
of God ! and why is it, but that there is often no sense 
of God's presence, no feeling of out sinfulness and 
wants, no heart for devotional duties. Every thing in 
God's service should be expressive of godly fear ; and 
if we do not reverence Him in the day of health, shall 
we be able to worship him in the hour of mortal sickness ? 

But the patriarch's death-bed scene gives rise to re- 
flections which require more particular note. 

The blessing of a dying Christian parent is more to 
be coveted than the legacy of the richest worldling. 
The latter, like the poisoned arrows bequeathed by Her- 
cules to Philoctetesj may become the means of the in- 
heritor's destruction. Often does the inheritance of 
riches which a godless father spent his life in accumu- 
lating, result in wretchedness and ruin to the son. With 
such a bequest, and from such a source, come tempta- 
tions to self-indulgence, without the counteracting prin- 
ciple of persona] responsibility to God. But the bless- 
ing of a dying Christian parent, though he may have no 
worldly goods to leave behind him, " maketh rich, and 
hath no sorrow added." 

It is the inheritance of a good name which, next to 
personal worth, is more to be prized than all "the wealth 
of Ormus and of Ind." Memento of a parent's virtues, 
it will be dearer to the heart — should right views be 
taken of life — than any inherited titles could have been. 
With the treasured blessing, which is, as it were, the 



THE PATJEtlARCH S DEATH-BED. 51 

seal of a parent's faith in God, he need not envy those 
who pride themselves on ancestral renown. He can 
ever say to himself, though excluded by his birth from 
the circles of worldly rank : ' My father was a Christian, 
which is " the highest style of man." He did not walk 
with the great on earth, but with the greater in heaven 
— with the greatest and best of beings. He was not 
surrounded in his dying moments by the rich and the 
noble of this world, but angels ministered at his couch ; 
and he now stands clad with undecaying honor before 
the throne of God and the Lamb.' 

It is moreover the inheritance of wisdom. We may 
have gathered the sayings of the ancients, or pondered 
the precepts of the Bible ; but no w T ords have such 
influence over the heart as the last words of a dying 
Christian parent. They may have been heard before, 
but the circumstances in which they are now uttered, 
invest them with fresh interest, and give to them spirit 
and life. 

To see a father stretched upon the bed of death ; to 
know that the eye which had so long beamed on us with 
affection, will soon be closed ; that he who had provided 
for our wants, counselled us, borne with our wayward- 
ness and follies, been our best friend from earliest child- 
hood, must in a few brief hours be consigned — a pale 
and stiffened corpse — to the dark grave, with what 
emotion do we watch his changing looks ! with what 
solicitous intentness do we bend over him to catch his 
dying words ! Do his lips move ? does he counsel his 
children ? does he bless them ? Those feeble accents 
are not unheard, nor will they be unheeded. They have 



52 the patriarch's death-bed. 

sunken deep into hearts which the warmth of a parent's 
dying love had melted. Deepening our natural attach- 
ment to the memory of a parent, they have made an im- 
pression which cannot be erased. 

Perhaps the youth who had grieved his parent's heart 
by his dissipation and vices, is moved by this last scene 
to give his own heart to God ; for he who disregards 
the living parent, may heed the dying one : or perhaps, 
after the interval of natural grief, he revisits his former 
haunts ; but the night watches are full of remorse and 
bitterness to his spirit. The obtruded remembrance of 
a parent's dying words reproach him. To his excited 
imagination, that face which death had shrouded, seems 
to be now looking down upon him with a mingled ex- 
pression of love and sorrow. 'Tis more than he can 
bear : ' Forgive me, sainted spirit,' he exclaims, ' for- 
give me, O my God !' 

Often have the last words of a dying Christian parent 
come over the mind, to arrest the thoughtless, guide the 
wandering, or cheer the disconsolate. 

But the blessing of a dying parent is virtually equiv- 
alent to the blessing of Heaven. It was in the case of 
Jacob, and there is no scriptural reason it should not be 
so now. Prayer is the medium of blessings, whether to 
us or ours ; and if ever the Christian be in a suitable 
frame to pray aright, it is when he draws nigh to the 
gates of death. There is a serenity, too, in the closing 
scene of a good man's life, which tells us that with him 
all is peace, and we would imbibe his spirit — a some- 
thing so allied to God and heaven, that the dying bless- 
ing has always been highly valued. On the other hand, 



THE PATRIARCH'S DEATH-BED. 53 

the curse of a dying man has, in every age, been regard- 
ed with peculiar horror, — the common impression 
having been that it could not be without a supernatural 
influence in shaping one's future destiny. Unenlight- 
ened people have shrunk back aghast from the curse of 
a dying man, as from the malediction of the Great Spirit 
himself! But though there may be no foundation in 
nature for this impression, yet we cannot doubt that the 
blessing of a righteous man is instigated by the Father 
of mercies, and that it will be secured by his covenant 
faithfulness. The blessing of Jacob was in effect the 
blessing of the God of Jacob ; and the prayers of Chris- 
tian parents have often been answered in the conversion 
of their children ; and their parting blessings on their 
children been realized by them in the enjoyment of God's 
unerring guidance and eternal favor ! 

Parents, then, should so live that they may die as 
Jacob died. Next to the concern of a parent for the 
salvation of a dying child, must be that of a religious 
son or daughter for the salvation of a dying parent. To 
see a father or a mother living without the cordial rec- 
ognition of God's authority — still bent on the world's 
vanities, and thoughtless of eternity, is painful enough, 
even to children who are not themselves decidedly 
serious ; but to see a parent dying in his sins, must be 
anguish in the extreme, to a pious child. How shall I 
endure the destruction of my kindred ? how bear the 
thought, that the ties which bound me to my parent are 
sundered forever? — that, though we shall meet in the 
other world, we may then meet to part forever ! 

But when a parent dies in the faith, how different are 



54 

our emotions ! How did he soothe our sorrow and al- 
lay our fears ! How is the pang of separation allevia- 
ted by the thought that we shall yet meet around our 
Father's throne in heaven ! Though our parents may 
have been long dead, how often does their dying hour 
steal over our remembrance, and speak to us of their 
heavenly home ! 

Perhaps our hearts are never so full of soothing 
hope — so fraught with a tender and pensive satisfac- 
tion, as when we stand by the grave of a parent who, 
while dying, commended us to God in prayer ! The 
world may have frowned upon us — our mind may be 
heated by the toils and conflicts of life ; but here, a ho- 
ly calm comes over our hearts — here repose the ashes 
of my Mother, and her sainted spirit is looking down 
upon me from the heights of glory ! 

But if parents would die in peace, they must put 
their trust in the God of Jacob. ' How can I leave my 
children ?' is the natural expression of a dying parent's 
affections. ' Who will care for them as I do ? guide 
them into the way they should go ? point out to them 
the dangers of their path — provide for their wants, and 
sympathize with their sorrows ? They are young and 
inexperienced : what will be their character? what their 
condition? And how have they entwined themselves 
around my heart ! I can give up any thing else, but I 
cannot bear to part with my children.' No ; you can- 
not part with them without anguish of spirit, unless 
you have given your supreme affections to God ; unless 
you are his, and he is yours, by virtue of his gracious 
covenant ; and you can draw nigh unto Him who " never 



THE PATRIARCH'S DEATH-BED. 55 

said to the seed of Jacob, Seek ye my face in vain," 
but promises to be the "Father of the fatherless." 
Hence, the dying Christian is enabled to commit his 
children into the hands of his covenant-keeping God. 
Dear as they are to him, Jesus is dearer still ; faithful 
as he may have been to his charge, God will be more 
faithful to his promise. Yes ; he can bear to part with 
his loved ones ; he can humbly give them up, and all 
that appertains to the world ; for he believes in God, and 
knows that God " will never leave them nor forsake 
them ;" that there is no love so pure and strong as his 
— no care so watchful as his — no security for their true 
interests so great as his covenant faithfulness. " The 
God which fed me all my life long unto this day, the 
Angel which redeemed me from all evil, bless the lads." 
I am aware that such views are apt to provoke the 
skepticism of men intent on the world. Even Chris- 
tian professors may be sometimes detected in making 
*' provision for the flesh" — securing worldly friends, 
and hoarding their treasures, for their children. But I 
would not, for all that the world can promise, or mam- 
mon bequeath, be in the condition of that parent who, 
as he thinks of the time when his children are to be left 
by him in such a world as this, has no God to whom he 
can go and refer their interests ; who, amid the dark 
perplexity of his thought, can find no relief, save in the 
atheistic sentiment : ' Well, they must take their chance!' 
Such a one is to be pitied ; but still more those children 
who, in consequence of their parents' godless example, 
are one day to go forth amid the temptations and trials 
of the world, with no euide but passion , no guard but self! 



56 the patriarch's death-bed. 

We have adverted to the trial of parting with one's 
children : it is, in some instances, an equal if not a 
greater trial for the Christian to leave the vineyard in 
which he has been so long laboring for God. But this 
same faith in the Divine promises enables him, at last, 
calmly and cheerfully to refer the interests of Zion to 
God's covenant faithfulness. ' I have been but an hum- 
ble instrument in his hand. He can raise up another such. 
Whatever especial need there may now seem to be for 
my labors, it matters not : though I die, yet God lives ; 
and he can carry on his cause without me as well as 
with me.' — "I am leaving the ship of the church in a 
storm," said the dying Owen, "but while the Great 
Pilot is in it, the loss of a poor under-rower will be in- 
considerable." What a satisfaction it must have been 
to Jacob to reflect, that, though he was going from his 
children, God would be with them, and bring them 
into the land of their fathers, notwithstanding all the 
obstacles and enemies that might oppose their entrance ! 
His was, indeed, a strong faith ; but not stronger than 
the promises of God warranted, or than every Christian 
is now encouraged and authorized to cherish. 

It is pleasing to note the evidences of piety in youth 
— to see them renouncing the vanities of earth, and con- 
secrating themselves to God — wrestling for the mastery 
over the lusts of the flesh, and aspiring after immortali- 
ty. But to the thoughtful mind, aged piety presents a 
more satisfying spectacle. The youth who to-day seems 
so devoted, may relapse on the morrow — the early 
promise of usefulness be choked by the pleasures or the 
cares of the world — the dawning lio;ht set in darkness! 



57 

There is much in his own heart, and every thing in the 
world around him, to shake the faith of the youthful 
Christian, and at last swerve him from the path of duty. 
But here is one who has adhered to his principles with- 
out compromising their strictness, and passed unscathed 
through the fires of earth's temptations ; who, while oth- 
ers may have been deterred by dangers, discouraged by 
difficulties, or turned aside to lying vanities, has kept on 
his way ; whose eye still looks, but with a steadier gaze, 
on things above ; whose soul still pants, but with deeper 
longings, after union with God ; and whose faith grasps, 
with a stronger hand, those " great and precious prom- 
ises" which are " yea, and amen in Christ Jesus." 

Religion, in such a case, is proved to be, not the im- 
pulse of youth, but the conviction of age ; not the off- 
spring of ignorance and fear ; not the fantasy of an ardent 
temperament, nor the sentiment of a morbid imagination; 
but the firm belief of hoary wisdom. Hence, its greater 
influence, when seen to be associated with the sobriety 
and experience of years ; and a lifetime's cares and trials, 
bear witness to its value and importance. Hence, our 
deep respect for the man whose long life has attested 
the rectitude of his motives, the consistency of his ac- 
tions, and the integrity of his faith ; hence it is, also, 
that we love to hang on the lips of an aged minister of 
the gospel w T ho has borne himself worthily during the 
burden and heat of his day. What encouragement for 
Joseph to persevere in the faith, must his father's death- 
bed have afforded! — to hear the old man then witnes- 
sing for God, that he had found him gracious ; and to 
see him still trusting in the God of Abraham and of 



58 

Isaac ! There can be no stronger recommendation of 
religion than the fact that God was the God of our 
fathers, and that they found both their duty and interest 
in walking before him. " Speak reproachfully of Christ," 
said the enemies of Polycarp, as they led him to the 
stake, " and we will release you." — " Speak reproach- 
fully of Christ? Eighty-six years have I served him," 
replied that holy man of God, " during all which time 
he never did me an injury : how, then, can I blaspheme 
him who is my King and my Saviour?" 

"Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about 
with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every 
weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and 
let us run with patience the race that is set before us." 
They who have gone back to the world have but 
pierced themselves with many sorrows. Night after 
night do they reproach themselves for their backslidings, 
and often purpose to return ; but ah ! they may not — 
perhaps cannot ! But every day's perseverance has 
given to the steadfast followers of Christ a renewed 
conviction of the truth and worth of the gospel. Often 
have they additional reasons for blessing the God of 
their salvation ; and as they glorify God through all the 
days of their life, so will they glorify him by a holy 
death. 

Jacob, we are told, was trained up in the nurture and 
admonition of " the fear of his father Isaac ;" and now 
that he is old and gray-headed — his eye dim, and his 
strength gone ; now that he is lingering on the borders 
of the eternal world, what would be his condition had 
he not been brought to an early acquaintance with the 



THE PATRIARCH'S DEATH-BED. 59 

God of his fathers ? It was the influence of early piety, 
deepening with his years, that shed such radiance over 
the evening of his life. It was the long and varied ex- 
perience of God's faithfulness that rendered him so calm 
in view of his dissolution, and enabled him, with implicit 
confidence in God, to bless both Joseph and his sons. 

' Now cast your eye on the aged,' might a thoughtful 
observer of life say to his young friend ; ' mark those 
hoary locks, those tottering limbs, that faltering speech. 
All those sources of pleasure that are open to you, are 
closed to him ; those incitements to action that thrill 
your bosom, are powerless to him. He is dead to all 
the gratifications you seek, and all the objects you pur- 
sue. Can you realize, that, should life be spared, you 
will become as that old man?' 



"Thou must outlive 



Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty which will change 

To withered, weak, and gray ; thy senses then 

Obtuse ; all taste of pleasure must forego 

To what thou hast ; and for the air of youth 

Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reign 

A melancholy damp of cold and dry 

To weigh thy spirits down, and last consume 

The balm of life." 

4 You cannot realize that you are ever to undergo so 
great a physical change, nor be readily persuaded that 
you are one day to become so indifferent to the things 
on which your heart is now placed ; much less be in- 
duced to prepare for that greater change than even old 
age effects. But if you have any regard for your high- 
est good, you will listen to the counsels of the heavenly 
oracle :' — 

"Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, 
While the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, 



60 THE PATRIARCH'S DEATH-BED. 

When thou shalt say, < I have no pleasure in them;* 

While the sun, or the light, 

Or the moon, or the stars, be not darkened, 

Nor the clouds return after the rain : 

In the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, 

And the strong men shall bow themselves, 

And the grinders cease because they are few, 

And those that look out of the windows be darkened. 

And the doors shall be shut in the streets, 

When the sound of the grinding is low, 

And he shall rise up at the voice of the bird, 

And all the daughters of music shall be brought low ; 

Also when they shall be afraid of that which is high, 

And fears shall be in the way, 

And the almond-tree shall flourish, 

And the grasshopper shall be a burden, 

And desire shall fail ; because man goeth to his long home, 

And the mourners go about the streets : 

Or ever the silver cord be loosed, 

Or the golden bowl be broken, 

Or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, 

Or the wheel broken at the cistern. 

Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was, 

And the spirit shall return to God who gave it." 

What a change must that be ! How important to 
avail one's self of the lights, and succors, and consola- 
tions of the Word of God — so that, as we advance on 
our pilgrimage, " his statutes may be our songs ;" and 
that, when we put off this earthly tabernacle, we may 
" rejoice in the hope of the glory of God," and leave 
behind us the memory of the righteous ! 

Profane history records not unfrequent instances of 
kings and heroes calling their sons and servants around 
them, and delivering to them their last charge ; but we 
must go to the sacred oracles to hear of men who died 
worshipping God and blessing others. Who expects 
that an unbeliever will die as Jacob died ? Was it ever 
told of a dying infidel, that he called his children around 
him that with his last breath he might bless them in the 



61 

name of God ? I have never heard of but one of this 
class who showed any concern for the religious welfare 
of his child. When the daughter of a believing mother 
was told that her father (who had been an infidel, and 
opposed to her studying the Bible) could not recover 
from his sickness, she threw her arms around him and 
solicitously asked — "When you are gone, shall I hold 
to your views, or follow my mother's creed ?" His 
breast heaved — the tear started — and with a quivering 
lip, though with convulsive energy, he exclaimed, " Not 
mine, not mine — your mother's!" 

But such an instance tends only to confirm our posi- 
tion. How is it possible that an infidel should die with 
praises and blessings on his lips? In whom does he 
believe ? on whose promises does he rely ? to whom 
does he pray, if he presumes to pray at all? When 
doubts are gathering round him like portentous clouds ; 
and Conscience is awaking in her supremacy ; and the 
tremendous suspicion steals over his soul that, after all, 
Christianity is true ; when the dread thought comes 
home to him that the next instant he may stand before 
the bar of an offended God — a naked, guilty, helpless 
spirit ! must he not be too much absorbed in his own 
condition to think of others ? Cursed himself — feeling 
that he is lost — already damned! must he not be in 
any other frame of mind than fit to praise and bless ? 

Perhaps unbelief has hardened his heart ; or, it may 
be, the indomitable pride of opinion — the stubborn re- 
luctance of depraved nature to renounce what we have 
lauded, and espouse what we have despised — seals his 
lips in desperate silence. But if his misgivings be too 

(i 



62 the patriarch's death-bed. 

poignant to be concealed, and he must give utterance to 
his resistless convictions of right and wrong, of truth 
and falsehood, which, like lightning through the mid- 
night sky, have flashed over his dark soul, how does he 
express himself but in the bitterness of his remorse, or in 
the groans of his despair ! How does he curse himself 
for the sentiments he had taught, for the example he 
had set to his household, and curse those, too, who se- 
duced him from the faith, and entrapped him in the 
snares of the pit! Perhaps — he curses God, and dies! 

This is no picture of our imagination : I might refer 
to the recorded curses and blasphemies which have es- 
caped the lips of dying infidels, — could we not readily 
conceive that such must be the feelings of a man who, 
when hanging over the grave, awakes to the conviction 
that he had believed a lie — lived only to work out his 
own damnation ! 

Not so may a Christian die. Convinced, by his life- 
long experience, of the Divine goodness, and having the 
most implicit confidence in the mercy of God through 
Jesus Christ, no dark thoughts can brood over his mind 
— no malign feelings rise in his heart. Full of praise 
and gratitude, he would be the medium of diffusing that 
peace which he himself enjoys. Blest himself, his prayer 
is that God would bless others. Knowing now, from 
his own consciousness, that 

" Jesus can make a dying bed 
Feel soft as downy pillows are," 

how solicitous is he that all should embrace the Saviour 
Arhom he has found ! Knowing, too, how closely the 



THE PATRIARCH'S DEATH-BED. G3 

ties of nature bind us to him, he would even prepare 
our minds for his own approaching end. 

Tell me not of the free thoughts and blithesome emo- 
tions of infidelity — who but the dying Christian can say 
any thing to strengthen the hearts and wipe away the 
tears from the flowing eyes of surviving relatives ? From 
the nature of his creed, we expect that he will bless us 
with his parting breath, and beckon us on to the heaven 
whither he is going : and hence, when we know that a 
Christian is called to die, our only apprehension is, lest 
some turn in his disease, before death ensue, preclude 
the expression of his views and feelings. 

What an argument, this, for Christianity ! Let infi- 
delity rest in its objections : that is the religion for me 
which will best sustain me, when my head is bowed on 
the bed of death — fill my heart with praise and my lips 
with blessings, when family and friends come around 
my couch to receive my last adieu ! 

What Christians most need is, not more evidence of 
the truth of Christianity, but more of its benign and 
heavenly spirit. God grant, that, when we come to die, 
we may be enabled to say, not that we believe, but, "J 
know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he 
is able to keep that which I have committed unto him 
against the last day ;" and that " there is laid up for me 
a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous 
judge, shall give me at that day ; and not to me only, 
but unto all them also that love his appearing." 

"I die," said the Patriarch, "but God shall be with 
you, and bring you into the land of promise." His 
presence will more than make amends for my absence. 



64 THE 

He will be with you through life, in the hour of death, 
and bring you at last to the heavenly Canaan, whither I 
am going. So it was : long since did Joseph sit down 
with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, in heavenly places in 
Christ Jesus. And thus will it be with the descend- 
ants of pious parents if they follow in the steps of their 
fathers, and " hold fast the beginning of their confidence 
steadfast unto the end." Ere long we shall be reunited 
to them in another and better world. 

How great, then, must be the power of faith , which 
can so impart sobriety to youth and cheerfulness to age 
— vigor to moral principle and perseverance in Chris- 
tian duty — guidance to the living and hope to the 
dying ; which can so nerve the soul for its dire encoun- 
ter with the last enemy — rendering it calm and stead- 
fast during the solemnities of exchanging worlds — ena- 
bling it to part with earth without reluctance, and to look 
forward into eternity with the even serenity of trust ; 
which, at the last gasp of nature, can inspire it with sen- 
timents of praise toward God and good-will to man ! 

And did the old man die ? Yes ; " the fathers, where 
are they? and the prophets, do they live forever?" 
All these, however, died in faith: and could we gather 
into one view " all the declarations of faithin God — all 
the gratulations of conscience — all the admonitions and 
benedictions to weeping friends" — all the beams of 
opening glory that have irradiated the countenances of 
God's people as they have successively fallen asleep in 
Jesus — our hearts would respond to the sentiment, 
" Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last 
end be like his !" 



THE LEGISLATOR'S FAITH. 65 



THE LEGISLATOR'S FAITH. 

Various instances of prospective faith in Christ, 
might be gathered from the records of the Patriarchal 
dispensation. But, as our object is to stimulate and guide 
inquiry, rather than by ingenious arguments to support 
a favorite hypothesis ; to justify present faith by detect- 
ing its elements even in the earliest times, rather than 
by multiplied detail and accumulated proofs to convince 
the skeptic, we confine our observations to the instances 
already adduced ; though the faith to which we allude, 
was not less conspicuous in the case of Abraham than 
of Jacob, in Isaac, and Joseph, and Noah, than in 
Abel. " These all died in faith, not having received 
the promises, but having seen them afar off; and were 
persuaded of them, and embraced them." But what 
were those promises *? what scriptural explanation of 
them can be given, unless they were the promises of a 
future Redeemer, successively given to the early patri- 
archs ? If so, it might be expected that the faith which 
such promises served to nurture, would be handed down, 
and that it would grow stronger and more efficient, as 
time rolled on toward their fulfilment in the permanent 
manifestation of the anthropomorphic word. If the 
Patriarchal, the Levitical, and the Christian dispensa- 

6* 



66 

tion are of God, it were but reasonable to suppose, that 
they have some common relation, and that their unity 
of design will be found in their relation to some one ob- 
ject. It is not unusual to trace this connection, by show- 
ing that the first and the second dispensation looked for- 
ward to the Christian, as to the consummating dispensa- 
tion ; for the victory promised to the seed of the woman 
could not be said to be achieved, until, after suffering 
his mortal part to be bruised by the serpent, he had him- 
self bruised the serpent's head ; nor could the promise 
to Abraham be said to be fulfilled, until in his seed all 
the nations of the earth were blessed ; nor could the 
gathering of the Gentiles to an extraordinary personage 
take place, according to Jacob's prediction, until the 
sceptre had departed from Judah ; while they who were 
placed under the tuition of the law, might have been as- 
sured, from the very circumstance of its exclusiveness, 
that the Levitical dispensation could not last. This 
connection, too, may be traced by means of those cere- 
monies, sacrifices, and types, which seemingly referred 
to Him who should come to take away sin by the sacri- 
fice of himself. But any inferences from what we con- 
ceive to have been the nature of the earliest dispensa- 
tions, may fail to satisfy the mind. All arguments, though 
logically framed, are of little weight, unless example 5 
of faith can be adduced from the earliest times. We 
want to see the practical connection between the law 
and the gospel ; for, unless faith is essentially the same, 
whether it be viewed under the former, or the latter dis- 
pensation ; unless it wrought then what it tends to effect 
now, — we can never have the assurance that the Chris- 






THE LEGISLATOR'S FAITH. 67 

tian faith is not foreign from the principles of the Mo- 
saic creed. 

If one example of faith in Christ could be found un- 
der the Levitical dispensation, it would, to say the least, 
impart additional significance to the import of its cere- 
monial institutions, reflect clearer light on the great de- 
sign of the gospel, and animate the Christian's hopes. 
Nor need we look in vain : this prospective faith shines 
forth brightly — is signalized in the acts, not of some 
obscure Hebrew, but of no less a personage than the 
lawgiver and leader of the Israelites. Paul expressly 
states, that Moses " esteemed the reproach of Christ 
greater riches than the treasures in Egypt : for he had 
respect unto the recompense of the reward."* Nor is 
it necessary to resort to any ingenious process of reason- 
ing, to evince the credibility of this passage on grounds 
independently of the fact, that the apostle wrote as he 
" was moved by the Holy Ghost." 

If the word became flesh, and dwelt among us, he 
who recorded the several manifestations of the word to 
Abraham and Jacob, could not have been unacquainted 
with the great object of Patriarchism. He who be- 
held the Angel Jehovah in the burning bush, received 
his commission from this angel, heard him speak, and 
saw his face ; who enjoyed his personal guidance in the 
fiery pillar, and was charged to reverence him, on the 
express ground that he bore the name of God, could 
not have been ignorant that the Angel Jehovah is the 
God of the Hebrew church. This angel is unequivo- 
cally pronounced to be the God of Abraham, of Isaac, 

* Heb. xi. 26. 



68 

and of Jacob,* and therefore, was not a mere created 
angel. He was manifested as the God of the Hebrew 
patriarchs, both visibly and tangibly ; and therefore was 
not the invisible paternal God ; for " no man hath seen 
God at any time," or " can see and live." This Angel 
God, under the first two dispensations, sustained the office 
of a sensible organ of communication with God's cove- 
nant people, and therefore must be the same being whose 
prerogative it is under the Christian dispensation to de- 
clare the unseen Father.f In short, the Angel Jehovah 
was the same person as the word of God, and the word 
of God is the Messiah. Hence, John states, that " in 
the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, 
and the word was God ;" and hence, our Lord himself 
said : "Before Abraham was, Jaw," and that "Abra- 
ham rejoiced to see his day, and was glad ;" while he 
claimed unequivocally to himself the character of that 
Jehovah who was seen by Jacob at Bethel ; " verily, I 
say unto you, hereafter ye shall see heaven open, and 
the angels of God ascending and descending upon the 
Son of man." 

The law, indeed, was a dispensation but preparatory 
to the gospel ; it presupposed the necessity, and involved 
the doctrine, of a Mediator ; and it scenically exhibited 
the benefits of the gospel dispensation. To suppose, 
then, that Moses could have had no knowledge of Christ, 
is equivalent to the assertion that he had no comprehen- 
sion of the events which he recorded, of the law which 
he reduced to writing, and of the sacrifices which he 

* Gen. xxxii. 24-31 ; xlviii. 15-16.— Hosea xii. 2-5. 
t John i. 1 8. 



69 

instituted ; or that he did not know what he said when 
he announced to the Israelites that they were to expect 
another prophet like himself — one who should also 
come in the peculiar character of sovereign, as well 
as legislator. More than all — it is to disregard the 
express testimony of Christ himself to Moses : " for 
he wrote of me." The apostle's declaration, there- 
fore, is not without ample support. " By faith Moses, 
when he was come to years, refused to be called the son 
of Pharoah's daughter ;" that is, actuated by faith in the 
promised descent of the Messiah from Israel. 

This act, then, on the part of Moses, refers us to the 
early incidents of his life, to the singular contrivance 
which his mother adopted to shield his infancy from the 
effects of Pharaoh's cruel law ; to his discovery amid the 
bulrushes, and his rescue from the dangers of the Nile, 
by Pharaoh's daughter ; her compassion for the child ; 
her calling for a Hebrew nurse, who proved to be the 
child's own mother, the pains she took with his educa- 
tion, and final adoption of him as her son. In all these 
circumstances there is something so remarkable, that we 
are not surprised to meet with much that is extraordinary 
in his history. Why should he have been so miracu- 
lously preserved '? Why should the daughter of an im- 
perious king have taken such interest in a child whom 
she knew to belong to a hated race ? Why, at the im- 
minent risk of incurring the wrath of her royal father, 
did she adopt the child ? And how happened it, that the 
child's mother, who had evaded Pharaoh's stern decree, 
and thereby jeoparded her own life, should, out of a 
multitude of weeping mothers, have been unwittingly 



70 THE LEGISLATOR'S FAITH. 

selected as his nurse ? Such a variety of particulars, 
all uniting to one end, are at variance with the idea of 
chance ; they admit of no satisfactory explanation, short 
of the fact, that God directed the incidents of his early 
life, as he overruled his adoption by Pharaoh's daugh- 
ter, and his courtly education, to the accomplishment of 
his own high purposes. His providence is as apparent 
in the case of Moses, as of Jesus ; and in fact there is 
so remarkable a parallel between them, that the former 
may be viewed as a type of the latter. 

We are not furnished with a circumstantial account 
of his youth ; but of this we are distinctly informed, 
that he refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's 
daughter. There was every temptation to comply 
with her wishes. She was childless ; her father was 
without a son ; the kingdom of Egypt was the greatest, 
if not the most ancient. It was for him, not to pay 
court to the people, nor to fawn on enthroned pride ; 
not to bathe his hands in the blood of a rival, or to 
bribe conflicting interests ; but simply to own the name 
of son to Pharaoh's daughter, and the kingdom would 
become his on the demise of her father. Most facile 
and seemingly trifling condition ! For how much less 
than a kingdom has many a man been induced to part 
with not only his name, but his principles ! 

Should he merely have owned that name, with what 
ease, too, might Moses have carried out his plans for 
ameliorating the condition of his kindred ; have even 
abolished idolatry ; and, in its stead, have established 
the worship of the only living and true God ! 

There was in his refusal the appearance of ingratitude 



THE LEGISLATOR'S FAITH. 71 

to his preserver and patroness ; a seeming unmindful- 
ness, too, of God's goodness in having afforded him 
such an opportunity for advancing his own, and the in- 
terests of his people. There was even an exposure of 
himself to the royal displeasure, which might be visited, 
not merely on himself, but on the Hebrews, already 
most grievously oppressed. There was, indeed, no 
alternative for him but to accept the offer, and become 
rich, and honored, and mighty, in the earth ; or to re- 
fuse, and be cast out — an object of hatred and persecu- 
tion ! or rather, to cast in his lot, without any worldly 
resources, among an enslaved, oppressed, and degraded 
people. 

In a word, here all temptations united and conspired 
to influence his choice ; pleasure, riches, honors, and 
power — all that tends to attract, and charm, and bind 
the natural heart ; still, he resolutely refuses to be called 
the son of Pharaoh's daughter ! 

Was it through ignorance of the nature of the offer 
made to him, that he refused ? How could it have been, 
when, from the education which he had received, and the 
associations which he had formed, he must have under- 
stood the advantages of his position, and the means 
which he might secure, whether for the gratification 
of his passions, the display of self, or the exercise of 
ambition '? What youth, on being conducted to maturi- 
ty under the smile of such patronage, would not have 
had his imagination infected with all the imposing images 
of regal greatness ? 

Nor could he have despaired of at last attaining the 
kingdom. Being the adopted heir, his right to the 



72 the legislator's fajth. 

throne could not have been disputed. Having been 
brought up in the court, and instructed in the wisdom 
of the Egyptians, it is not to be supposed that he would 
naturally have too low an opinion of himself to aspire, 
or too little confidence in himself to hope for success. 
Nor is there any thing in his history to warrant the sup- 
position that he was of an enthusiastic turn of mind. 
If his instruction in Egyptian lore had tended to gene- 
rate morbid feelings and mystical views, the circumstan- 
ces in which he was placed were not favorable to enthu- 
siasm ; nor would he have embraced a religion which 
his Egyptian teachers could not have recognised. 

Could he then have acted from some sudden impulse 
of petulancy ? or, was it at a period when he was incom- 
petent to decide with judgment, that he refused ? Nei- 
ther supposition can be admitted, so long as we adhere 
to the record. As though it had been his design to pre- 
clude all skeptical surmises, the apostle states that this 
refusal was made when Moses was come to years, — that 
is, years of discretion ; and from Stephen we learn, that 
at that time he was full forty years old ; and it was 
at the same time, also, that he enjoyed among the 
Egyptians a great reputation for wisdom and valor. 
No one, therefore, so far as advantages of knowl- 
edge, of experience, and of standing, are concerned, 
could have been better fitted for forming an intelli- 
gent judgment, and coming to a deliberate decision. 
From his position and his years, he must have under- 
stood what he was to forego, and to what he was ne- 
cessarily exposing himself by a refusal ; still he refused, 
though the choice lay not between the burden and cares 



THE LEGISLATOR'S FAITH. 73 

of a crown, and the sweets of affluent and quiet retire- 
ment ; but between honor and reproach, riches and pov- 
erty, ease and suffering ! Rather than accept the splen- 
did offer, he chose affliction with the people of God. 
Now this is not natural : men have but little fondness 
for the society, much less sympathy with the trials 
of God's people. They shrink from toil, and contume- 
ly, and pain. They may submit for a season to priva- 
tions, but it must be with the hope of thereby attaining 
the height of power, or the means of luxurious indul- 
gence. Rather than knowingly expose himself to a life 
of poverty, and suffering, and reproach, what worldly- 
minded man would not even sacrifice his conscience ? 
But Moses freely, deliberately, chose just such a life, 
rather than wear a crown, and have the treasures of 
Egypt at his command ! 

It is not uncommon to disparage the importance of a 
religious education ; and it must be admitted, that some, 
notwithstanding the religious influence of parental teach- 
ings and example, no sooner reach maturity than they 
yield to the seductions of the world. Such instances, 
however, are comparatively rare. The greater propor- 
tion of those who are now enabled to withstand " the 
corruption that is in the world through lust," were 
brought in early life to an acquaintance with the princi- 
ples of truth and duty. Early impressions may be coun- 
teracted ; but, in general, as are the impressions of the 
youth, such will be the convictions of the man ; and so 
will he decide when called upon to make his election 
between duty and self, God and mammon. 

It was not in vain that the mother of Moses, to whom 



74 the legislator's faith. 

Pharaoh's daughter had unknowingly committed his 
childhood, had often pointed him and commended him 
in prayer, to the God of her fathers. We can imagine 
with what fervor she thanked the God of Abraham, and 
of Isaac, and of Jacob, for the rescue of her son ; with 
what alacrity she took him to nurse ; with what tender- 
ness she watched over his infant steps ; with what solici- 
tous intentness of purpose she told him the history of 
her people, and the story of their wrongs ; and, as he 
grew in years, of the dangers to which he was exposed, 
as well as of the advantages which he enjoyed ; how, too, 
God had spared him, and placed him under the protec- 
tion of a princess, that he might one day subserve the 
interests of his people — perhaps, effect their rescue! 
She was, indeed, nothing more than a poor slave ; but 
she was a child of Abraham ; and her faith in Abra- 
ham's God was not shaken, and her love for her kin- 
dred was only purified, not lessened, by their afflictions ; 
and that God should have saved her son, and restored 
him to her arms, only rendered her the more prayerful- 
ly anxious that he might be trained up to declare the 
glory of her God, if not achieve the deliverance of her 
people. Nor was she disappointed. Her God was his 
God; her people, his people — even the people of 
Christ ! to whose ancestors, the holy patriarchs, he had 
repeatedly appeared, and proclaimed himself the God of 
their fathers ; who saw the afflictions of his people, and 
whose reproach was the reproach of himself. 

Moses felt, therefore, that he could not be the accept- 
ed heir of a kingdom supported by a people so per- 
tinaciously attached to idolatry, without either abandon- 



THE LEGISLATOR S FAITH. 75 

ing or dissembling his religion. To have accepted the 
offer would have been to forsake his fathers' God, as 
well as blast his mother's hopes ; and such considera- 
tions might have primarily influenced his judgment. 
But, then, he was enabled to form a proper estimate of 
the tempting offer. He knew that the pleasures of the 
Egyptian court could not be enjoyed without sin ; that 
they were sinful pleasures — pleasures w T hich would 
soon pass away, and leave only remorse and pain in the 
retrospect ; that the favor of Israel's God was more to 
him than the gems of a crown, or the honors of a scep- 
tre ; that no suffering which might be laid on him, no 
reproach cast on him by a tyrannical king or an idola- 
trous people, was worthy of a moment's regret, so long 
as, with the clear vision of faith, he could look forward 
to the recompense of reward. His was a noble heart, 
knowing no fear but the fear of God ; no ambition but 
to serve God ; no desire but for the glory of God, and 
the welfare of his covenant people. It was by faith 
that, when he had reached the maturity of his mental 
powers, he refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's 
daughter : faith in the existence, the government, the 
all-sufficiency, the faithfulness, the exceeding great and 
precious promises of Israel's God. In the light of 
truth and duty, affliction and reproach with the people 
of God, in and for the expectation of the Messiah, were 
incomparably preferable to the temporary enjoyment of 
sin ; even the toils and trials of a religious life, to the 
riches and honors of the world. 

His refusal, therefore, bespeaks true greatness of 
mind. Most men pride themselves on outward distinc- 



76 the legislator's faith. 

tions, and are wont to estimate each other according to 
the standard of worldly rank. Hence, the affectation of 
aristocratic habits by those who have suddenly become 
rich, and the expedients to which many resort to secure 
their introduction to high life. Such minds must needs 
be incapable of appreciating this act of Moses ; yet 
what would he have been, had he become a king? 
Could a crown have conferred dignity on Moses ? 
Could the treasures of Egypt have rendered him more 
worthy of profound respect? What was a successor 
of the Pharaohs, compared to a descendant of the patri- 
archs? What the prerogatives of an idolatrous king- 
dom, compared with the resources of a gifted intellect, 
and the sympathies of a generous heart, and the aspira- 
tions of a spiritual nature, and the enjoyment of God's 
favor? Egypt had no ability to exalt and honor him 
whom God had endowed and owned as his chosen ser- 
vant ! With powers, and purposes, and hopes, all in 
unison with the great end of his being, Moses might 
have looked down on kings, and on all the distinctions 
of wealth and honor for which men contend, as the toys 
of childhood. 

It is time the world were disabused of its false im- 
pressions of greatness ; that things were viewed in th'eii 
true light, and called by their right names. Pitiable 
spectacle! men fawning on the rich — flattering the 
worldly great ; or scrambling for glittering dust and 
gilded baubles, that they themselves may have some 
claim to honor. How insignificant such, in contrast 
with him who, to find his dignity, must lay aside all 
earth-born distinctions ! 



77 

" Himself too much he prizes to be proud, 
And nothing thinks so great in man, as man." 

The philosopher who refused to burn incense to the 
self-styled son of Jupiter Ammon, proved himself a 
greater man than Alexander himself. So Moses, in re- 
fusing the proffer of a crown, evinced his superiority to 
all vulvar ideas of greatness. That son of a bondwoman 
could not have felt himself honored by being called the 
son of Pharaoh's daughter ! 

Kings may be looked up to by the many, with blended 
sentiments of admiration and envy ; but the jewelled 
crown must be renounced, before man can effect any 
thing truly great. Moses had never conducted God's 
people to the promised land, much less left behind him, 
for the guidance of all coming ages, his imperishable 
records of God's works and ways, had he not refused 
to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter. Nor is it 
less necessary now, that he who would live and labor 
for useful ends, should renounce the world's high places 
of honor and distinction. What had either a Vander- 
kemp or a Martyn effected in the cause of ruined hu- 
manity, had they not refused all proffered honors, and 
laid their account with toil, privation, and suffering ? 
All that the gospel ministry itself proposes, can be ac- 
complished but at the expense of personal x sacrifices. 
" The reproach of Christ" must be esteemed, rather than 
the treasures of the world ; " affliction with the people 
of God" chosen, rather than the honors of ambition, 
or the enjoyments of indolent ease. Voluntary humil- 
ity is indispensable alike to personal greatness, and to 
great achievements. 

7* 



7,8 the legislator's faith. 

Unless there had been just and sufficient grounds 
for his belief in Israel's God, Moses could not have 
refused such an offer. Had he not seen Him who is 
the invisible Witness and Judge of human actions, it 
would not have entered into his heart to refuse. Amid 
the tens of thousands by whom he was surrounded, in 
all probability not one would have refused the offer. 
Perhaps, to all around him, from the favor he received, 
and the glittering prize which awaited his grasp, Moses 
was an object of envy. That he refused, must have 
been to all the courtiers a matter of profound astonish- 
ment — something they could not understand, and which 
was not to be explained on the ordinary principles of 
human action. His faith, therefore, must have been the 
full assurance or personal conviction of the reality of 
things not seen ; his religion had a practical reality ; it 
was a thing of life and word and deed ; and if Moses 
thus denied himself, so may any other man — so will he 
deny himself who, amid the temptations of a world that 
lieth in wickedness, has respect unto the recompense 
of reward. 

But why did he not yield to the wishes of his royal 
benefactress ? Was he not under great obligations to 
her ; and by conciliating her favor, might he not have 
been able to redress the wrongs of his people ; or, at 
least, to procure for them certain immunities ? Has 
not the providence of God secured to him favor in the 
sight of the royal household ? Is it not most remarkable 
that he — an outcast child — should have been so protect- 
ed, and educated, and fitted for a kingly station ? and is 
there not in all this some intimation of high Heaven's 



THE LEGISLATOR'S FAITH. 79 

designs ? Will he not ultimately have it in his power to 
liberate his brethren after the flesh — perhaps to abolish 
the worship of demon gods, to enthrone the true God 
— his own, his fathers' God — in the hearts of the peo- 
ple ? He cannot refuse, when he has only to accept the 
offer, to enjoy so great an opportunity, and command 
such ample means for doing good. Thus reasons, thus 
concludes, Expediency ! But Duty told him that he 
could not consent to be called the son of Pharaoh's 
daughter, without undervaluing and disparaging the true 
honor of being a son of Abraham, the father of the faith- 
ful ; could not be called the son of an unbelieving, idol- 
atrous woman, without renouncing his religion, or be 
true to Pharaoh without being false to God ; that no 
prospect of happiness or of usefulness could justify him 
in doing what is wrong in itself; that it was better foi 
him to suffer than to sin, to deny himself for the sake 
of Christ, than to exalt himself for the sake of man ; that 
God would take care of his own — accomplish his sov- 
ereign purposes in his own way and time ; that he him 
self was responsible, not for results, but only for the dis- 
charge of known duty. 

Such is the difference between the religious man, and 
the advocate for expediency, in the premises from which 
they respectively reason, and in the consequences to 
which their respective courses tend : the one having an 
eve single to the glory of God ; the other making men- 
tion of God only to cover his own selfish designs. It 
is a wide and important difference : yet often overlooked, 
especially where interest urgently clashes with the dic- 
tates of conscience ; and thus it happens that men so 



80 THE LEGISLATOR'S FAITH. 

often " do evil that good may come," sometimes con- 
forming to the world, under the plea that it is necessary 
to their usefulness ; then, for the sake of worldly gain, 
taking a step which will separate them from the people 
of God, and from the ordinances of religion ; or again, 
violating truth and duty for the sake of securing or of 
retaining some lucrative post. Be it considered, how- 
ever, that duty ordinarily involves self-denial ; while ex- 
pediency flatters self at the expense of conscience. Duty 
is founded in faith ; expediency cloaks unbelief. 

Moses's choice would have been folly in the extreme, 
had there been no recompense to which he could look 
forward with humble confidence. If there be no well- 
founded expectation of happiness in reserve for suffer- 
ing virtue, and the grave were to entomb our virtuous 
hopes, with all the aspirations of this conscious, intellec- 
tual being, the epicure's maxim might well be our only 
principle of action. He would be the wisest man who 
seized every opportunity, and scrupled at no means, of 
gratifying the darling passions of our earth-born nature. 
But if we have been constituted the proper subjects of 
a moral government, and either eternal happiness or 
eternal misery awaits us, according as we now either 
obey or disobey God, then nothing here is too good to 
part with, nor too grievous to be borne, for the sake of 
Heaven's high reward ; and he alone is the wise man 
who is willing to forego all worldly profits and pleasures, 
rather than forego a good conscience — to submit to any 
present ills rather than jeopard his eternal all. What 
are the gains of the world that they should ever tempt 
us even to neglect our spiritual interests? Are they 



THE LEGISLATOR'S FAITH. 81 

not attended with toil and trouble, and liable at any mo- 
ment to be wrested from our grasp? And the pleas- 
ures of sin, are they not at best but mixed and imper- 
fect pleasures, seldom to be enjoyed with a quiet mind ? 
and, when attended with no drawbacks, and no evil fore- 
bodings, are they not of brief and uncertain duration ? 
Then Moses, in choosing as he did, showed his wisdom, 
as well as proved his faith. But, at the present day, 
how many think more of gaining the world than of pre- 
serving " a conscience void of offence !" of enjoying 
the world than of being prepared to render up their final 
account " with joy and not with grief!" — thus living 
as if the world were every thing, and religion nothing ! 
And can no note of warning break up this ruinous infat- 
uation ? Let no one tell me of the pressure of his sec- 
ular engagements ; how it is necessary for him to do 
this, or to gain that, on account of his comfortable sup- 
port, or even his usefulness. Nothing can justify any 
violation of conscience or trifling with duty ; much less 
the compromising of our religious principles. " We 
cannot serve God and mammon." The choice must be 
made between God and the world. No man can have 
God for his portion who does not " renounce the world, 
the flesh, and the devil." If we would secure a title to 
his favor, no worldly object is to be sought after, no 
worldly good is to be enjoyed, which cannot be so with- 
out sin. No matter how powerfully self and sin may 
plead with us to accept this post, to gain that treasure, 
or to gratify that other passion : consider, we are here 
but for a few years ; even the morrow may find us in 
the other world, and there no earth-born distinctions 



82 the legislator's faith. 

will be recognised, no sensual gratifications retained — 
no consciousness there but of what we are in the sight 
of God — no difference there save that which obtains 
" between him that served God and him that served 
him not." 

To his deep persuasion of invisible realities, his full 
assurance of reversionary rewards for self-denying vir- 
tue, we distinctly trace the refusal and the choice of 
Moses. So did Paul, and in a manner hardly less illus- 
trious, exemplify the power of faith — following in the 
footsteps of those " of whom the world was not worthy." 
Such has been its influence over unnumbered minds ; 
and nothing short of this same faith can enable any one 
to withstand the pressing temptations of indolence or 
of ambition, of avarice or of sensuality. 

It is said that Moses " had respect unto the recom- 
pense of the reward," and that " he endured, as seeing 
him who is invisible." How inexplicable such expres- 
sions, on the supposition he had no sufficient ground for 
his belief in God and in a future life ! What sacrifices 
of self, what freedom from worldly motives, what spirit- 
uality of mind, what unruffled patience, what steadfast 
confidence and animating hope, do they denote ! What- 
ever the wisdom of the Egyptians in which he was in- 
structed, nothing short of a revelation from Heaven 
could have so raised him above the mind of the flesh, 
and fortified him against the promptings of self. 

Nor can there be less foundation for the Christian's 
confidence than there was for Moses's faith. Be it so, 
that he was supernaturally called of God ; yet faith is 
now, not less than it was then, " the evidence of things 



THE LEGISLATOR'S FAITH. 83 

not seen ;" and to the eye of faith all the things which 
it embraces have as real an existence as material objects 
to our bodily vision. The more they are made the sub- 
jects of reflection, the deeper is our conviction of their 
reality — so deep, as to seem, at times, the only realities ; 
just as consciousness may be made to evolve a truer con- 
viction of the existence of spirit, than even the senses 
furnish of the existence of matter. Hence, the believer 
in God's word, in view of the evidences with which it 
is accompanied, the nature of its discoveries, the adapt- 
edness of its provisions to the wants of his spiritual be- 
ing, the cloud of witnesses to the truthfulness and pre- 
ciousness of its promises by whom he is encompassed, 
may say, with as true and firm a conviction, as though 
Christ had appeared to him in person, I know that my 
Redeemer livc'h ! 

Yes ; He of whom Moses wrote, and for whom Moses 
voluntarily suffered reproach ; He to whom all the proph- 
ets bore witness, and for whom the apostles rejoiced that 
they were " counted worthy to suffer shame," is " the 
same yesterday, to-day, and forever." 

He has different spheres of duty and usefulness for 
his followers, and different ways of testing their fealty ; 
but to each, in turn, is he now saying : " Be thou faith- 
ful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life." 
We may not be called on to choose affliction, but we 
are required to deny ourselves ; and why do we ever 
hesitate, but that our faith is weak, and our love cold ? 
Why so apt to compromise with this vain world — to 
yield to the seductions of sin, but that we are prone to 
forget, why it i? we are here, and whither we are fast 



84 the legislator's faith. 

journeying ? Yet a little while, and eternity, in all its 
changeless realities, breaks upon our view ! And is it so, 
that heaven awaits Christ's faithful followers ? Well may 
they leave all sinful gains and joys to those who will 
have no better portion beyond the grave. Nay, come 
what may to flesh and blood, the Christian will reso- 
lutely refuse to do that which he knows to be wrong— 
refuse ever to betray the interests of religion for any 
worldly end. 

Duty rather than interest ; reproach rather than the 
honors of ambition ; poverty rather than the gains of 
iniquity ; yes, suffering — any suffering with the people 
of God, rather than the soul-destroying pleasures of sin ! 



THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 85 



THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 

Soon after their deliverance from the Egyptian yoke, 
the children of Israel began to murmur, and at last even 
reproached themselves, saying : " Why came we forth 
out of Egypt ? Our soul is dried away : there is noth- 
ing at all, beside this manna, before our eyes !" " The 
mixed multitude that was among them fell a lusting : and 
the children of Israel also wept again, and said, Who 
shall give us flesh to eat ? And there went forth a wind 
from the Lord, and brought quails from the sea, and let 
them fall by the camp, as it were a day's journey on this 
side, and as it were a day's journey on the other side, 
round about the camp ; and as it were two cubits high up- 
on the face of the earth. And the people stood up all that 
day and all that night, and all the next day, and they gath- 
ered the quails : he that gathered least gathered ten ho- 
mers : and they spread them all abroad for themselves 
round about the camp. And while the flesh was yet be- 
tween their teeth, ere it was chewed, the wrath of the Lord 
was kindled against the people, and the Lord smote the 
people with a very great plague. And he called the 
name of that place Kibroth-hattaavah : because there 
they buried the people that lusted."* 

In view of such a scene, our first impression is, that 
* Num. xi. 4-6, 31-34. 



86 THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 

the Israelites must have been extremely ignorant and 
degraded ; and we feel almost impelled to dismiss it from 
our contemplations with sentiments of disgust. It seems 
to be nothing more than an instance of excess working 
out its own punishment — such as often meets us in the 
history of some barbarous horde, or such as the glutton 
or the inebriate always brings on himself. In this light, 
it has been regarded by infidels ; and in any other rela- 
tion, it would be of little importance to us. But as it 
forms a part of the sacred narrative, a regular and con- 
sistent history, it is worthy of note, if for no other rea- 
son than to ascertain its credibility. 

It is not improbable ; though objections have been 
raised to the narrative on account of the immense num- 
ber of quails said to have fallen. But that the sacred 
writer meant to express the number very indeterminate- 
ly, is evident from the qualifying terms — "as it were 
a day's journey," and " as it were round about the camp," 
and " as it were two cubits high ;" while the word here 
translated ' homers,' may signify, as in Exodus viii. 14, 
heaps in general, without defining the quantity of each 
heap. It is, moreover, the testimony of travellers, that 
at certain seasons quails flew in great numbers. 

Such writers as Hasselquist and Diodorus, state that 
they were to be seen in immense flocks in the deserts 
of Arabia, near the shores of the Dead Sea, and about 
Rhinocolura; countries through which the Israelites jour- 
neyed : and hence there is no necessity for guarding the 
credibility of the narrative, by supposing that the He- 
brew salvim denotes locusts instead of quails. If the 
majority of learned men, such as Josephus and Philo 



THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 87 

among the ancients, and Bochart and Gesenius in mod- 
ern times, had not decided in favor of the meaning of 
the word as given by onr English translators, the term 
which the psalmist employs in referring to this event in 
the history of Israel is conclusive : " He caused an east 
wind to blow in the heavens, and by his power he brought 
c n the south wind ; he rained flesh also upon them as 
dust, and feathered fowls, 6ph Jcdndph, — a term never 
spplied to insects — " like the sands of the sea ; and let 
fall in the midst of their camp round about their habi- 
tations."* 

Nor is it difficult to explain the reason for spreading 
the quails " round about the camp." This mode of 
preserving certain birds of passage, according to Shuck- 
ford and Maillet, was usual among the heathens. The 
Egyptians were in the habit of drying fish,t as the Arabs 
dry camel's flesh, in the sun and wind ; and if so, the 
Israelites probably had the same end in view, in spread- 
ing the quails round the camp in the burning sands. 

Nor does it impair the credibility of the narrative, that 
the Israelites reproached themselves for having left 
Egypt. On the contrary, this circumstance imparts to 
the whole an air of truthfulness that otherwise had been 
wanting. While in Egypt, any condition might have 
seemed preferable to a state of vassalage ; Moses, an an- 
gel of light, in comparison with their cruel taskmasters. 
But whatever their sufferings there, all is forgotten, save 
the few hours of relaxation from toil they might have 
been occasionally permitted to enjoy, and the few ani- 
mal indulgences shrewdly granted them by their mas- 
* Ps. Ixxviii. 26-28. f ( 'o"f- Eerodot, lib. i., c. 200. 



S8 THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 

ters, to render them more tractable, and more reconciled 
to their lot, With great avidity they seized the first op- 
portunity of deliverance ; and they began their journey 
in all the ecstasy of recovered freedom : but their vis- 
ions have not besn realized. It is a longer and more 
difficult journey than they had anticipated. They have 
become weary and dispirited ; the manna has lost its 
sweetness, and the promised land is yet afar. Under 
such circumstances they would be apt to go back in 
thought even to Egypt — to lose sight of past toils through 
the irksomeness of their present journey ; to be indif- 
ferent to all prospective advantages, through their desire 
to gratify tastes which have revived in all the force of 
youthful impressions. Thus it is that the sea-sick voy- 
ager longs for land, and fondly fancies that he could 
there be content with the simplest cot and the rudest 
fare ; or that the immigrant often casts a wistful eye to 
the home of his youth, though the privations of that 
home urged him away to seek his fortune in some more 
favored land. In short, the rebellious feelings of the 
Israelites may be traced to causes not unlike those 
which now frequently result in mutiny on shipboard, or 
in the dissolution of a company of travelling adventu- 
rers. Nothing is more common than for men to mur- 
mur, and to regret the very step they had voluntarily 
taken, when they find themselves deprived of the com- 
forts to which they have been accustomed ; perhaps, 
when they are unable to gratify their appetite for some 
particular diet ! 

Nor is it improbable that so many of the Israelites 
should have died in consequence of indulging their taste 



THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 89 

for animal food. They had been a long time confined to 
the use of the manna ; and it is a fact in human experience 
that much flesh after protracted abstinence can seldom be 
eaten with impunity. But it does not therefore follow, 
that the effects of their surfeit was not a judicial punish- 
ment. If God be the author of the laws of the human 
system, the natural consequence of violating these laws, 
is an unequivocal expression of his displeasure ; but in 
the case of the Israelites there was a special interposition 
of Providence ; nor does it militate against our position, 
that both the supply and the judicial infliction were 
brought about in accordance with the laws of nature. 
An event may be not the less of God's special order- 
ing, because it can be explained on natural principles. 
Separate from the design of Heaven in working a mir- 
acle, but few events recorded in the Scriptures can be 
viewed as strictly supernatural ; while others must be 
received with great allowance for that proneness to hy- 
perbole which characterized all oriental forms of speech. 
Thus that the sun and moon stood still at the command 
of Joshua ; that the hand went back ten degrees on the 
dial of Hezekiah ; or that the flames did not consume 
the three Jews who had been cast by an idolatrous mon- 
arch into the fiery furnace, were in the highest sense of 
the word, miracles. But their credibility — aside from 
the character of the sacred record — arises not merely 
from the fact that He who made the elements may con- 
trol them at his sovereign pleasure ; but that it was his 
design to convince the fire-worshippers, that whatever 
their malignant efforts against Israel, even their own 
gods were subject to the Lord God of Israel. 



90 THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 

In the event under consideration, the miracle con- 
sisted, not in the immense flocks of quails which fur- 
nished a superabundant supply for the whole camp ; but 
in the fact that they came up from the s.ea for the space 
of a month, by a wind from the Lord, and were directed 
to a particular spot, within a circuit of about ten miles. 
The Israelites had dared to rebel, because they thought 
they should die unless flesh were given to them — thus 
adding presumption and insult to the basest ingratitude. 
It is God's design to rebuke their excuseless distrust of 
his providence : to convince them that he can destroy 
his enemies and preserve his friends ; that he who had 
overthrown Pharaoh and his hosts, could defend and 
support them ; that he who had sent them manna, could, 
if he saw fit, send them flesh ; that all the elements, and 
all creatures, are subject to his control ; and in this re- 
spect, the miracles of the quails is in keeping with other 
events recorded in the Scriptures. He who thus mir- 
aculously supplied the wants of the Israelites, is the 
same being who ordered the ravens to feed Elijah, and 
the lions not to hurt Daniel ; who sent a fish to furnish 
Peter with the tribute-money ; and at whose fiat the 
waters were divided, and the rock poured forth water, 
and the clouds dropped manna. 

On a former occasion the Almighty had most mercifully 
supplied them flesh ; but now, since the sufficiency se- 
cured to them by God's wonderful providence has served 
to render them only the more dissatisfied, and they crave 
quails, thus unnecessarily and unsubmissively, quails 
they shall have ; and in the consequences of their sen- 
sual gratification, as well as in the desires by which they 



THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 91 

are actuated, they shall be made an example " to the in- 
tent that others may not lust after evil things." The 
miraculous supply of quails, therefore, was ordered as 
a punishment ; and hence the event embodies a prin- 
ciple of God's providential government ; and it meets 
it? moral illustration whenever and wherever inordinate 
desires for worldly good are cherished. 

In nothing may the Past be more strikingly seen in 
the Present, than in the consequences of following "the 
lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes." As was 
the relation of the Israelites to the Theocracy, such is 
our relation to Providence. The desires by which men 
are now apt to be influenced — their inordinate long- 
ings, imaginary wants, and unsanctified wishes, have 
their parallel in those divers lusts and passions which 
drowned them in destruction and perdition ; and the 
place in which they that lusted were buried, shadows 
forth the Kibroth-hattaavah of the soul. The Israelites 
might not have believed that such punishment awaited 
their sensuality ; nor do men now reflect on the evil 
consequences of indulging their hearts' lusts ; but the 
laws of God's moral government are as unchanging as 
the laws of his physical kingdom, nor may any man vio- 
late them with impunity. The proof of this may be 
gathered from the Present as well as from the Past. 

That all should be desirous of exemption from the 
gripe of necessity, or the disquietudes of want, might be 
expected ; and were this desire controlled by a consci- 
entious reference to the proper ends of life, it could re- 
sult in no harm to our moral and spiritual being. The 



92 THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 

difficulty is, we are not apt to be satisfied with the sup- 
ply of our real wants, any more than the Israelites were 
with the manna. We wish for more, or for something 
else, either that the evils of poverty may be at a greater 
remove from us, or that we may gratify the pride and 
vanity of our hearts. Hence originates the desire for 
great riches, extended power, and resplendent honors. 
Whatever is of value in the eye of the world, and tends to 
exalt ourselves, to secure to us the obeisance of others, 
and to multiply around us the comforts and luxuries and 
adornments of life, is the object of desire, and often of 
immoderate desire. The savage must have the white 
man's glittering trinkets ; and the white man must equal, 
if not outshine, his neighbor. In every condition of 
society, the desire to have what others have, is, to a 
greater or less degree, common to all ; but in places of 
commercial enterprise and resort — where diversities of 
trade stimulate competition, and ingenuity is taxed to de- 
vise ever-varying forms to captivate the fancy ; where 
expedients are contrived to distinguish self from the 
crowd, and the pride of the rich and the interests of 
the poor, unite to render money the insignia of rank, the 
exponent of influence, and the medium of display, — 
covetousness becomes the all-absorbing passion, infecting 
the body politic ; rendering men restless, more suscepti- 
ble to outward impressions, fond of changes, and, in 
not a few instances, as miserable if they cannot gratify 
their fancy, as the poor Israelites,who wept because they 
wanted flesh to eat. 

It requires no very discriminating analysis of the hu- 
man heart, to ascertain the nature of the desires by 



THE GRAVE OF EUSTS. 93 

which such are actuated. If we are the creatures of 
the same Providence, no one is of more importance in 
the scale of being than another : factitious distinctions 
aside, we occupy the same level ; and our respective 
interests are one and the same. Hence, we are forbid- 
den to covet ; and at the same time, it is enjoined upon 
us to love our neighbor as ourself. To desire all things 
therefore, that all things may contribute to our private 
ends, amounts to an assumption of our own personal 
superiority ; it implies, also, a virtual infringement of 
the rights of others ; and we have yet to see the moral 
difference between the man who appropriates to his own 
use what does not rightfully belong to him, and the man 
who covets what he may never have. In either case, 
the emotions of the heart must be the same, and selfish- 
ness the controlling power. This renders him regard- 
less of others, except so far as they can be made to sub- 
serve his interests ; blind to the proper uses of the things 
of this life ; and insensible to his indebtedness for what 
he already has, and to the great end of God's dealings 
with him. 

The present, is a state of moral discipline. Our Cre- 
ator would prepare us for the employments and joys of 
" a better country, even an heavenly." Those of his 
gifts that are gratefully and moderately used, he contin- 
ues, unless it be necessary for him to test our fidelity ; 
those that are, or will be abused, he resumes, unless he 
has seen fit to leave us to ourselves. All things are or- 
dered according to the councils of his own will — wise- 
ly ordered and beneficently overruled to the good of 
those who love him, and to the glory of his own name. 



94 THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 

But what is this economy of Providence — so radiant 
with the marks of wisdom and goodness to every hum- 
ble mind — to him who " lusts after evil things ?" His 
feelings brand it with partiality, injustice, and folly. He 
virtually says unto the Almighty, that He does not act 
on the principles of strict rectitude ; that he himself has 
a right to what has been withheld or resumed — is really 
more deserving than others ; he, ignorant and short- 
sighted as he is, says unto the Omniscient, that he knows 
what is best ! 

If we only reflect on the character and government 
of that Being who is disclosed to us in the Scriptures, 
we can be at no loss as to the light in which he is viewed 
by the Divine mind who is ever ungratefulfor what he 
has, and covetous of what others possess ; at once un- 
submissive to God's will, and imperious in his own ; 
regardless of God's honor, and intent solely on the grat- 
ifications of his fleshly lusts. 

But whence is it that one becomes dissatisfied with 
his lot in life ? In his neighbor's condition, there is, to 
his view, entire relief from all the inconveniences to 
which he is subject ; and there, too, are the advantages 
of which he is destitute. Suffering his imagination to 
lead captive his judgment, it seems to him, there is hap- 
piness, and he would gladly exchange conditions. Thus 
he desires riches, not that he is in anywise necessitous, 
but because he imagines " a man's life to consist in the 
abundance of the things which he possesses ;" and thus 
the costly mansion and the splendid equipage become 
associated in his mind with the appropriate means of 
worldly enjoyment. He desires eminence, not that he 



THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 95 

is unknown, or would subserve his reputation to useful 
ends ; but it would gratify him above all things, he im- 
agines, to see his movements publicly noticed , and hear his 
name repeated from lip to lip with sentiments of praise. 
He desires relief from the toils and turmoil of business 
— visions of rural retirement visit his slumbers — all 
his efforts are directed to this end : not that he would 
avail himself of his leisure to enlighten his mind, and 
improve his heart, and benefit society ; but that he may 
spend the rest of his days in affluent elegance and lux- 
urious ease. Such a man is " of the earth, earthly" — 
his desires betray the state of his heart ; and are they 
not wrong and foolish ? Not, if this be our " continu- 
ing city," or death, annihilation. But what shall we 
say, if this life can be proved to be only the infancy of 
an immortal existence ; and if every soul of man has 
interests at stake to which all worldly interests are less 
than nothing, and vanity ? 

Hence, God warns men to " abstain from fleshly lusts, 
which war against the soul ;" and charges them to 
" set their affection on things above." But if, in spite 
of the teachings of his word, and the warnings of his 
providence, they still crave earthly things, their desires 
are not unfrequently gratified. And here it were easy 
to particularize, and show how this man, and the other, 
has at last obtained the desire of his heart and the de- 
light of his eyes ; but instances will readily occur to the 
reader, drawn from his own observation, and perhaps 
his own experience. God might not have been con- 
sulted — all reference to the Divine pleasure might have 
been intentionally excluded : while intent on his darling 



96 THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 

end, the man might have been conscious of his designed 
forgetfulness of God — his pure, defecated worldliness 
of spirit ; and yet God, in his providence, favored him 
in his endeavors — as it were, yielded to his desire — 
just as he granted the request of his ancient people, 
when, at one time, they desired flesh to eat ; and again, 
that they might have a king to reign over them ; or, as 
he yielded to Balaam's desire, and gave him permission 
to go to Balak. 

Hence, the sentiments with which God regards us, 
cannot be inferred from the worldly circumstances in 
which we are placed. We might be forward to con- 
clude, from the remarkable success which attends some 
men, that they are the objects of the Divine approba- 
tion : they are often called the "favorites of fortune;" 
but there is now one man in hell who, while upon earth, 
was " clothed in fine linen, and fared sumptuously every 
day." On the other hand, we are prone to say to our- 
selves, ' What sin has this man committed, that he 
should be so destitute and afflicted V But there is now 
a man in heaven who, when in this world, u was laid 
at the rich man's gate, and fed with the crumbs that fell 
from the rich man's table ; and whose sores moreover the 
dogs came and licked." So true is it that " God's thoughts 
are not as our thoughts." " That which is highly 
esteemed among men, is abomination in the sight of 
God." The very things which the carnal mind desires, 
may be the evidences of his displeasure ; while those 
from which our nature shrinks, may be the tokens of his 
love. He may give in anger, and refuse from love to 
the souls of his children. In hedging up our way with 



THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 97 

thorns, he may mean to satisfy us with his favor ; but 
by indulging us in our earthborn desires, he may mean 
to leave us to the sway of our pride, and indolence, and 
carnality. In so doing, however, he himself is in no- 
wise implicated in the sin and misery of his creatures. 
"Let no man say when he is tempted, 'I am tempted 
of God ;' for God cannot be tempted with evil, neither 
tempteth he any man : but every man is tempted, when 
he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed. Then, 
when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin ; and sin, 
when it is finished, bringeth forth death." 

It is true that spiritual interests are seldom heeded by 
those who cherish immoderate desires. All they think 
of, or seem to care for, is earth. The ardor of the Is- 
raelites in gathering the quails, furnishes no unapt image 
of the course pursued by many worldly men. As the 
former " stood up all that day, and all that night, and 
all the next day, and gathered the quails," so do the 
latter sometimes sacrifice ease and sleep for worldly 
ends — 

" Add night to day, and Sunday to the week." 

To gain their heart's desire, no opportunity must be 
neglected, no time lost, no labor spared ; and all this 
for the meat that perisheth ! So much " wiser are the 
children of this world in their generation than the chil- 
dren of light." 

The Israelites, in their efforts to gather the quails, 
had no concern for God's favor ; and thus, in their 
worldly aims, men seldom take into consideration the 
moral bearing of a successful issue. It matters not with 
what deprivation of religious privileges their course mav 



98 THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 

be attended — it must be prosecuted. Though such 
overtasking of their mental and physical powers may 
disqualify them for the proper discharge of their reli- 
gious duties, still the work must be done ; that is, the 
quails must be gathered. We cannot trust God for the 
future ; we must get enough, though we have now more 
than a sufficiency ! 

But as " the wrath of the Lord was kindled against 
the people, even while the flesh was yet between their 
teeth," so do men often covet what they will never live 
to enjoy. " Ere the flesh was chewed, the Lord smote 
them with a very great plague :" and thus, ere the estate 
is enjoyed which cost a man so many toilsome days and 
sleepless nights ; ere the gold is coined for which, in his 
covetousness, he abandoned the sphere of duty and use- 
fulness where God had placed him, and exposed him- 
self to toil, and hardship, and demoralizing influences ; 
or, just as he is reaching forth to grasp the prize for 
which, in his all-absorbing desire of fame, he had waived 
the claims of Him who endowed him with intellect for 
nobler ends — his soul is required of him! 

Thus, also, may we sometimes see those very objects 
for which men " lusted exceedingly," wrested from their 
grasp almost as soon as gained — the riches for which 
they longed making themselves wings, and flying away ; 
or the fame for which they panted, rendering them only 
the more conspicuous marks for obloquy, or uplifting 
them with pride until they paved the way for their own 
downfall. Sometimes desire is gratified, but at the ex- 
pense of health, and, it may be, with the loss of charac- 
ter ; or when the object is gained, it disappoints expec- 



THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 99 

tation, and precludes peace of mind. No matter what 
it is that is sought so eagerly — whether it respect some 
affluent connection in life, the cultivation of a particular 
talent, the perpetuation of a name, or the enjoyment of 
a home — so surely as that object is allied to self and 
earth, it may be made " a snare, and a trap, and a stum- 
bling-block, and a recompense." Even the child that 
was longed for, may die ere it opens its eyes on the 
light, or live long only to bring its parents' " gray hairs 
with sorrow to the grave." — "Who knoweth what is good 
for man in this life, all the days of his vain life which 
he spendeth as a shadow?" As the most beautiful 
plants are most deleterious in their properties, so those 
objects in life which gratify the eye and stimulate the 
passions, may be the most inimical to our peace. From 
some fancied attendant evil we often dread what is good 
for us in a temporal point of view ; and thus, in conse- 
quence of some fancied attendant good, we often desire 
what proves to be, on the whole, a temporal evil. Lot 
lifted up his eyes and beheld all the plain of Jordan, 
and chose it, because " it was well watered everywhere." 
It never occurred to him whether it would be the best 
country for one who had a religion to honor, a soul to 
keep, and a family to bring up in the fear of the Lord. 
He was influenced solely by the beauty and advantages 
of the soil ; he chose as a worldly-wise man, not as be- 
hooved a servant of the Most High ; and what were the 
consequences but vexations, losses, disgrace, desola- 
tion, and dismay? The country of his choice was 
doomed of Heaven; all his coveted possessions were 
involved in the common overthrow ; his wife was con- 



100 THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 

verted into a pillar of salt ; some of his children per- 
ished, and those that were rescued might better for him 
have been swallowed up with his guilty sons-in-law ! * 

If, therefore, our immoderate desires for worldly good 
often result in temporal evil, much more may such de- 
sires tend to the injury of our spiritual interests. The 
nature of the human mind will not admit of two co- 
existent desires of equal strength and fervor : the one 

* " The gods," said one of the heathen moralists, " have overwhelmed 
in ruin whole multitudes, merely by indulging them with every thing 
for which they asked ;" and he is but a limited observer who knows not, 
in this respect, the vanity of human wishes. But, having been left to 
the guidance of their own understandings, the ancient pagans were led 
to observe narrowly the course of human events. Hence, in Plato's 
Dialogue on Prayer, Socrates is represented as saying to his pupil, who 
was going to his devotions, that " it became him to be very serious on 
the errand, since it was possible for one to bring down evils upon him- 
self by his prayers ; and that those things which the gods sent in answer 
to his petitions, might turn to his destruction. This, he said, may not 
only happen when a man prays for what he knows is mischievous in its 
own nature — as CEdipus implored the gods to sow dissension between 
his sons— but when he prays for what he believes would be for his good, 
and against what he believes would be for his detriment ; because men 
from ignorance, prejudice, or passion, are so blinded that they cannot 
see what would be really beneficial. He then asks his pupil if he would 
not be delighted, should that god to whom he was going to pray, prom- 
ise to make him the sovereign of the whole earth; and on receiving an 
affirmative reply, asks again of his pupil, if, after receiving this great 
favor, he would be contented to lose his life — or if he would receive it, 
though he was sure of making an ill use of it. Socrates then shows 
him, from the examples of others, how these might probably be the 
effects of such a blessing ; and adds that other reputed pieces of good 
fortune, which men ardently desire, and would not fail to pray for, if 
they thought their prayers would be answered — such as having a son, 
or procuring the highest post in the government — are subject to the 
like fatal consequences." Having established this point, that no man 
knows what, in its consequences, would prove to him a blessing or a 
curse, he recommends to him, as the model of his devotions, a short 
prayer of a Greek poet : " Give us those things which are good for us, 
whether they are such things as we pray for or not ; and remove from 
us those things which are hurtful, though they are such as we pray 
for." 



THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 101 

must give place to the other. Hence, whenever our 
earth-born desires approach an unreasonable height, our 
spiritual desires are correspondingly depressed. As well 
attempt to identify God and mammon, as blend inordi- 
nate desires for worldly good with spiritual aspirations. 
We may render the forms of religion subservient to 
worldly ends ; but undue desire for any worldly object 
is necessarily at variance with all advancements in the 
Divine life. In proof of this, we might advert to Chris- 
tian experience — show what changes, in their senti- 
ments and actions, have come over even good men, 
when they have been taken captive by some worldly 
desire ; how it has gradually led to a loss of their wonted 
interest in the private duties of religion, and finally to a 
neglect of God's word and ordinances ; how that wealth 
which was toiled for with such restless avidity, has, in 
some instances, impaired all sense of dependence on 
God, and given rise to pride, and self-indulgence, and 
conformity to the world — though before, the man might 
have been distinguished by his humility, and self-denial, 
and spirituality of mind ; and how that fame which was 
coveted, under the quieting plea of extending one's influ 
ence for good, has at last become the end and aim of 
all his movements, and brought him down in his ways 
of life to a degrading level with those whose praise is 
not of God, but of men. 

Worldly men need not tell us how they feel in rela- 
tion to the subject of religion : their actions too plainly 
reveal their sentiments. He whose heart is set on 
riches, puts forth no effort to attain the "pearl of great 
price :" and, in like manner, he who is intent on liter- 

9* 



102 THE GEAVE OF LUSTS. 

ary acquisitions, or on the praises or pleasures of the 
world, has no desire for that wisdom which cometh 
from above, that honor which cometh from God only, 
or that peace which flows from communion with God 
and from the discharge of duty to man. No ; that soul, 
which was made for God and heaven, has lost sight of 
its birthright, and is now stooping to a degrading thral- 
dom ! 

The moral consequences of following the heart's lusts 
might be viewed in different forms, and traced through 
different relations. He who thus sets out to gratify his 
selfish desires, may become as regardless of man as he 
is indifferent to God. Let him hanker after any worldly 
object, and if he cannot obtain it by fair means, Ahaz- 
like he will ultimately break through the restraints of 
virtue and religion. Hence those crimes which invoke 
the arm of civil justice — those deeds of darkness which 
cause us to tremble, if not for ourselves, at least for our 
children ! Who knows what a day may bring forth for 
that man who has surrendered himself to the control of 
fleshly lusts ? Enter yonder mansion : it is the house 
of mourning, but not for the dead ; for the living, worse 
than dead — the living abandoned to his vices. Or go 
to yonder prison-house : what means that piteous spec- 
tacle ? Wretched man ! he is suffering the penalty of 
those selfish desires which led him on from vice to 
crime ! 

Be it so, that such evils are the extreme and only 
occasional results of lusting after worldly good ; yet the 
very object for which men are so prone to " walk in the 
sight of their eyes," cannot he attained. What world- 



THE GRATE OF LUSTS. 103 

loving, self-seeking man was ever heard to say, ''Tis 
enough !' It requires but Httle observation of the world 
to be able to trace the course of our natural desires. 
Yonder is a man driven to bis daily task under the 
scorching heat of a tropical sky : he knows no motive 
but fear, no signal but the lash. Ask him what he de- 
sires ? ( Purchase my freedom.' Is he now, being a 
freeman, happy *? He has forgotten the necessity of an 
estate. Well, is the rich man happy? Not until he is 
invested with dignity and honor. He is happy now? 
No ; he must surpass his neighbor, or stand high without 
a rival. Grant him, then, the insignia of sovereign rank 
and rule — he is not contented. Decorate his brow with 
the laurels of victory — still he is not contented. Give 
him the crown of universal empire, and he will sigh for 
more worlds to conquer. Give him all things which 
either his sensuality, or his avarice, or his ambition, 
may crave ; and then press home upon him the question 
of content. The morrow will find him just as unsatis- 
fied as he is to-day ; and the reason is, that he has sur- 
rendered his essential being — his soul into captivity to 
his earth-born appetites. " There is an evil which I 
have seen under the sun, and it is common among men: 
a man to whom God hath given riches and honor, so 
that he wanteth nothing for his soul of all that he desi- 
reth, yet God giveth him not power to eat thereof." 

By the very gratifications which he coveted, the man 
has rendered himself more unhappy than he would have 
been had all his desires been denied ; for now he is 
waking up to the conviction that all here " is vanity and 
vexation of spirit." Nor is this all : with him the greater 



104 THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 

part of life has been passed in the pursuit of shadows ; 
and he cannot but be aware that a being formed for an 
endless futurity, has been merged in perishing interests ; 
that though his temporal concerns have flourished, his 
spiritual have been sadly neglected ! 

Such is the occasional experience of those who have 
lived to gratify their worldly desires ; and, though some 
may have thereby been led unto serious and timely re- 
flection, yet the soul is often ruined by those very ob- 
jects for which it so importunately wished, and sedu- 
lously labored. Though it may at times feel the unsat- 
isfying nature of all earthly things, will it be an easy 
matter to let go its hold on objects to which it has 
become so wedded by desire and effort? Is it in ac- 
cordance with the laws of our mental and moral being, 
that he who has all his life long been controlled by the 
perceptions of sense, should be led to elevate his affec- 
tions to things which can be apprehended only by faith ? 
Is it to be expected that he who has lived with his treas- 
ures and honors all on earth, should die at last with his 
heart in heaven ? 

There may be hope in the last hour for many a 
thoughtless sinner ; nor would I presume to question 
the efficiency of God's grace ; but it is God who has 
been dealing with this wretched creature. God " grant- 
ed his requests," and God " has sent leanness into his 
soul :" it is the leanness of spiritual death ; and if any 
thing, short of the terrors of the last day, can rouse him 
from this spiritual stupor, why is he so deaf to the voice 
of his own conscience — to the reiterated calls of God's 
word, and even to the daily monitions of God's provi- 



THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 105 

dence ? How happens it, that he should think less of 
heaven than of the most insignificant of his worldly 
interests ; and that he actually dreads any worldly disas- 
ter more than eternal damnation ? How is it to be 
accounted for, when he knows that he cannot live here 
alway, and at times feels that he has no security for his 
life, that he should be just as intent on worldly gains 
and gratifications as if there were no God ! 

Men may go on in the ways of their hearts, and be 
only the less apprehensive of future ills, when their un- 
reasonable and unsubmissive requests for worldly good 
are granted. But " coming events cast their shadows 
before," in those temporal evils so often consequent on 
the gratification of worldly desires. How solemn the 
thought, that all our present desires and affections go 
toward making up the sum of our future happiness or 
our future woe! — and often, methinks, will the lost 
soul, as it sinks lower and lower into the abyss of end- 
less woe, cvrse the riches and honors of a bygone pro- 
bation ! 

Men need no persuasives to induce them to guard 
their persons, their honors, or their property ; but of 
how much more importance to their true interests that 
they should maintain a strict and constant watch over 
their desires ! Even they who profess to believe in that 
gospel which has illumined life and immortality, are not 
the less prone to be influenced more by " the things that 
are seen" than by " the things that are not seen ;" by the 
hope of present advantages than by the certainty of fu- 
ture good. To ward off the dangers to which we are 
daily exposed, let us reflect that the various objects of 



106 THE GRAVE OF LUSTS* 

earthly desire often dazzle but to blind, excite but to 
disappoint, and allure but to destroy ; that what seems 
so fair and beauteous, may conceal a viper's sting, and 
what seems most conducive to our happiness, may be 
stored with misery. Let us be sensible of our ignorance 
and short-sightedness, our liability to be governed more 
by passion than by reason, by vanity than by judgment, by 
a regard for immediate though transient advantages than 
by ultimate and permanent benefits. He who is wise 
will not concern himself "what this man is famed for, 
or for what the other is preferred ;" what this one has, 
or how that other succeeded. Let this man have the 
honor, and that the riches ; if we would avoid those 
passions and inquietudes to which so many are subject, 
let us learn rather to contract our wishes, than to enlarge 
our means. Amid the conflicting interests and passions 
of the throng, let the sentiment of our heart be that which 
is couched in the beautiful language of Hamet : " A 
little brook which in summer will never be dry, and in 
winter will never overflow ;" or rather, the prayer of our 
heart should be that of Agur : " Give me neither pov- 
erty nor riches ; feed me with food convenient for me ; 
lest I be full, and deny thee, and say, ' Who is the 
Lord?' or lest I be poor, and steal, and take the name 
of my God in vain." 

No man can be contented until he beholds God's 
agency in all that appertains to his earthly lot. No one 
can be at rest who has not learned to wait God's time 
and counsel for all things ; to be thankful for whatever 
is bestowed ; to humble himself rather than to gratify 
his oride : to mortifv than indulge his lusts; to submit 



THE GRAVE OF LUST?. 107 

his judgment to Sovereign wisdom : and to resign his 
will to unerring goodness and exhaustless love. 

Experience, if nothing else, might teach us the folly 
of inordinate desires ; that they bring with them evil and 
not good, a curse and not a blessing. We cannot ad- 
vert to our own experience, without regretting that some 
one selfish desire had not been timely repressed, or some 
other temptation to aggrandize self been steadfastly re- 
sisted. We cannot look around us without perceiving 
the ravages of fleshly lusts on the condition and character 
of immortal beings. Our very pathway through life is, 
as it were, strewed with the bones of those that lusted. 

Why, then, fret ourselves ' ; because of him who pros- 
pered in his way?" or pity him whom God in mercy 
has seen fit to disappoint and try ? Who shall not look 
well to himself, if placed in circumstances of worldly 
prosperity? for, though all things may be prosperous 
and felicitous without, yet within there may be naught 
but famine, and leanness, and spiritual death ! And 
who that has set out in the ways of his heart, will not 
be warned betimes to extricate himself from the deadly 
grasp which the world is about to fasten on his soul? 

There is a greater evil in life than either poverty or 
obscurity — than toil or trial — than suffering or sorrow : 
it is to be left of God " to eat of the fruit of our own 
ways, and to be filled with our own devices." There 
is a sentence more dreadful than that of immediate death 
and damnation : " Evhraim is joined to Ids idols — let. 
him alone /" 

Kibroth-hatia avoh ! What lessons of wisdom may 
be gathered at that place ! what solemn warnings rather 



108 THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 

are there uttered ! There, from generation to genera- 
tion, the world has buried its votaries. There are the 
graves of the sensual, the covetous, the ambitious. 
Where be their pleasures now? their riches? their hon- 
ors? — all the vain things they lusted after, and for which 
they bartered their souls ? 

My soul turns in horror, and exclaims : ' Let God 
do with me as seemeth unto him best ; only let me be 
humble, grateful, and submissive ; yea, let me " deny 
all ungodliness and worldly lust, and live a godly, sober, 
and righteous life!" — ever seeking "the kingdom of 
God and his righteousness." ' This is an object wor- 
thy of all our thoughts and desires : for this we may 
ever long, and strive, and pray : it is adapted to the 
nature of the soul, and will fill and bless all its capaci- 
ties. " Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst 
after righteousness ; for they shall be filled." 

The children of this world must needs be skeptical 
of the nature and tendency of religion to confer lasting 
good. Infatuated by their own hearts' lusts, they can 
not easily conceive of a happiness separate from selfish 
gratifications. To such, there is a seeming reality in 
the shadows they pursue ; and hence, even the disap- 
pointments and losses to which they may be subjected 
do not change the current of their desires. But the 
Christian, having awaked to a sense of his high rela- 
tions, knows, from his own experience, that he is never 
so free from disquietude as when he is waiting upon 
God — so happy as when he commits his way unto the 
Lord ; that there is nowhere else such peace as flows 
from " the lio-ht of God's countenance." In view of 



THE GRAVE OF LUSTS. 109 

that inheritance which is incorruptible and undefiled, O 
what a feeling of the vanity of all earthly things sweeps 
over his consciousness ! — a feeling that suffers no abate- 
ment, until, through the transforming influence of faith, 
he is able to exclaim : " Whom have I in heaven but 
thee ? and there is none upon earth that I desire besides 
thee." 

" Give what thou canst, without thee I am poor ; 
But with thee, rich, take what thou wilt away." 

10 



.10 THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 



THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 

He who does wrong is apt to do worse, either that 
he may conceal the wrong, or enjoy the fruits of his in- 
iquity. The fear of exposure, or the fear of loss, coun- 
teracts the remonstrances of conscience and the motives 
to repentance, until the mind becomes blinded in its 
perceptions of right, and the heart loses all sensibility 
to crime. Thus falsehood leads, as by a moral necessity, 
to perjury — -overreaching, to forgery — libidinous de- 
sire, to the violation of domestic purity — and the wrath- 
ful passions to the destruction of human life ; while each 
criminal deed, as it were, seeks and claims support from 
the other, as the degraded, wretched inmates of a prison 
contrive to keep each other in countenance. Sad is it 
to think of the transformation which human nature may 
undergo — from virtuous promptings and resolves, to 
evil passions, and polluting practices, and criminal 
deeds ; from that, which promises a useful, happy life, 
to all that betokens degradation and despair. But time 
is necessary to the development of evil propensities. 
Conscience must be injured by other and deeper acts 
of wrong, before the man is left to the unrestrained con- 
trol of his own heart's lusts. Let the first promptings 
to evil be unresisted, the first wrong unrepealed of, and 



THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. Ill 

no youth may say of what he may not be guilty : even 
that bright and beautiful boy may become a monster in 
crime. 

Thus was it with Absalom. He had given loose to 
evil passions, and by adding crime to crime, had at last 
rebelled against his kingly father ; and, not content with 
having wrested the sceptre from his hand, and driven 
him from his home, he now aims to compass his death 
— the bloody death of that father who had lavished on 
him, from his boyhood, all the smiles and favors of pa- 
ternal love ! Never had a father a more lovely and 
promising son ; and never did a son more grievously 
disappoint a father's fondest hopes. 

It might be supposed that Absalom's treatment of his 
father would have frustrated his traitorous designs ; but 
his personal attractions, together with his plausible ad- 
dress, predisposed the people to accredit his statements ; 
while his incipient success served at once to decide those 
who had wavered or stood aloof from motives of pol- 
icy. In times of civil commotion, the many, without 
pausing to decide on the merits of a cause, will incline 
now to this side, and then to that, according as either 
gives promise of triumph ; but though Absalom's con- 
duct must have appeared in an odious light, yet David 
himself had made many personal enemies — he had even 
given occasion for the enemies of God to blaspheme ; 
and it is not unreasonable to suppose, that some among 
his people waited but an opportunity to show their con- 
tempt of his religion, and their hatred of his rule. 

It must be admitted, however, that men are seldom 
wanting to second the design? of ?elfish ambition. The 



112 THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 

less restrained by principle, the more artful will one be 
in his efforts to entrap the unwary, and the more adroit 
in the selection of his agents. Thus it happens that a 
corrupt politician sometimes enjoys the support of well- 
meaning, but credulous men ; or that a flagrant offender 
in the church is, in some instances, upheld even by good 
men — they have been flattered by his attentions, or ca- 
joled by his artifices : perhaps, he approached them on 
their blind side, and in return for the compliment, they 
cover him with the mantle of their charity. There were 
men in Absalom's train who, however opposed to some 
of David's acts, could not have been insensible to the 
heinous ingratitude of his son's conspiracy, unless they 
had been blinded by his arts, or seduced by his promi- 
ses : these were some of the ciders of Israel ! — as men of 
official dignity have since been detected in advocating 
the wrong against the right. But others sided with Ab- 
salom, from a regard to their own interests rather than 
to his — opportunely availing themselves of his conspir- 
acy to gratify some long-cherished passion — as there 
are not a few at the present day who, having nothing to 
lose by any political convulsion, would even plunge 
their country into the horrors of a civil war, rather than 
forego the chance of personal aggrandizement. Thus 
men of talents without principle are found engaged in a 
bad cause ; nor are men of superior penetration always 
ingenuous. When their object is good, they are wont 
to effect it in a circuitous, rather than in a direct and 
simple way ; and thus a habit of acting is formed which 
impairs integrity and precludes confidence. No man is 
more to be avoided than he who prides himself on his 



THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 113 

ability to devise ways and means. Rather than be 
subjected to the mortification of failure, he may betray 
others, as well as be betrayed, into iniquitous measures. 
He who thinks that he sees further than other men, will 
be tempted to overreach. At any rate, a reputation for 
great wisdom does not prove its possession. Many an 
obscure man can give us better counsel than the oracle 
of a party, or the chief of a profession. One may ex- 
cel in worldly wisdom, yet be utterly devoid of moral 
principle ; but wisdom without grace, is the wisdom of 
the serpent. 

Absalom had engaged the ablest counsel in the king- 
dom ; and to human view, this was a triumph on his 
part. David himself thought that he might better have 
lost any other man than Ahithophel. That one man is 
a host in himself. To receive his counsel, is as though 
one had inquired at the oracle of God. 

Absalom therefore, in all probability, relied on Ahith- 
ophel, as men in a strait are apt to lean on their own 
understanding, or to defer to casual suggestions. But 
Ahithophel relied on himself: he could hardly have had 
such a reputation, and not presumed on his sagacity. 
We may detect this same spirit of self-reliance not less 
in the ecclesiastic who has distinguished himself for his 
politic measures, than in the statesman who has been 
long acknowledged as the thinking head of his party. 
Hence, such, sooner or later, outwit themselves and de- 
feat their own ends. Wise as Ahithophel conceived 
himself to be, he made the mistake that worldly-wise 
men so often commit — he left God out of his counsels, 
and in so doing, lost all respect to the right. ' Hmv to 
10* 



114 THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED, 

accomplish his end' is now the question : the nature 
of the means to be employed is of minor consideration. 
Hence the folly and the wickedness of his first advice 
to Absalom.* It proves that, with all his wisdom, he 
scrupled at no means to carry his purpose ; it proclaims 
what he meant to conceal, that he felt himself to be in 
a false position. Having taken a most hazardous step 
for himself, he has awaked to the conviction that with 
all his penetration he has been the dupe of his own pas- 
sions, and now has not so much his reputation to sup- 
port, as his place to keep, and even his life to defend ! 

In giving his counsel, it was primarily his object to re- 
venge himself on David, and to preclude all reconciliation 
between the conflicting parties ; but the act proposed was 
ill-advised for himself, and worse for Absalom. Such an 
act that " blurs the grace and blush of modesty," eouid 
only render him more debauched and unreasonable, and 
prejudice the public mind against his rule. This Ahith- 
ophel might have foreseen ; and it may be, that in giv- 
ing such nefarious counsel, he had an eye to Absalom's 
downfall and his own exaltation. But evil counsels 
ultimately recoil on both the giver and receiver. The 
righteous may suffer long ; but " the triumphing of the 
wicked is short." 

It might be expected that one who had been brought 
up as Absalom was, would not prove a blessing to his 
father ; and that a son who had been unrestrained in 
his evil ways, would ultimately ruin himself: this is ac- 
cording to the usual course of things. Whatever the 
laxity of domestic rule, or the encouragement to vice 

* 2 Sam, xvi 2L 



THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 115 

afforded by paternal example, the son, in his downward 
coarse, acts voluntarily. Absalom might have crimina- 
ted his father, but he acted contrary to his own convic- 
tions of right, and at the instance of his own selfish pas- 
sions ; and therefore it cannot be justly alleged that 
God, in order to make good his word that " he would 
raise up evil against David," necessitated Absalom's 
treatment of his father. In all his plans and movements 
there may be detected the signs of a self-willed and 
quick-witted youth ; one who could be either imperious 
or servile, desperate or plausible, as suited his humor 
and furthered his interests ; who sought pleasure as well 
as power ; and notwithstanding his personal vanity and 
violent passions, had the sagacity to secure the most dis- 
tinguished counsel, and the patience to mature his plot. 
Thus far all has equalled the most sanguine expecta- 
tions. Absalom is in possession of the city, and the 
elders of Israel have rallied around his standard. The 
renowned counsellor of the realm is by his side ; and 
now, lo ! the very man who had been David's bosom 
friend, espouses his side and waits his bidding. He 
has attained the summit of his ambition : the crown is 
his by might, though not by right; and therefore the 
struggle in which he had engaged has, notwithstanding 
his present elevation, but just begun. Before the break 
of another day, his dethroned father may have fled be- 
yond his reach, or intrenched himself in some impreg- 
nable fortress : his forlorn condition may have awakened 
a widespread sympathy, and a reaction may ensue in the 
public mind. There is no time for delay : " each hour 
is pregnant with a thousand perils." 



116 THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 

Whatever might have been his exultation on entering 
the city, serious thoughts now press upon him, and sad 
misgivings embarrass his purpose. ' If David should 
cover his retreat, and at last muster strength, what must 
be my fate ? He cannot pardon ; I cannot submit. The 
die is cast!' Thus might he have felt, yet would he 
not precipitate action. He will be cautious ; he will 
canvass the views of his adherents, and decide as to the 
wisest course. Accordingly, he summoned a meeting 
of all the principal men on his side; and it was in this 
council that he called on Ahithophel and Hushai in 
turn to give their opinions. They were men not un- 
equally matched in foresight, though the one had been 
unknown as a counsellor. They were alike capable of 
giving the wisest counsel, but influenced in their re- 
spective opinions by conflicting personal motives. True 
to their own private and separate ends, though not alike 
true to Absalom, the one was swayed by his desire of 
being revenged on David, the other by his desire to 
reinstate David in his lawful dominion. The vindic- 
tive passion of the one rendered him bloodthirsty and 
desperate ; the friendly sympathies of the other blinded 
him to candor and truth. In the counsel of the one, we 
detect the malignity of a foe ; in that of the other, the 
arts of a hypocrite. The one would have destroyed 
David, the other dispossessed Absalom. 

Ahithophel was of opinion that David should be im- 
mediately pursued, before he had time to recover from 
his fright; and, to this end, proposed that twelve thou- 
sand chosen men should be at once put under his com- 
mand. But Hushai expressed himself to the effect that 



THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED, 117 

such a movement would be precipitate and hazardous ; 
that David had too much foresight to expose his person, 
and too much courage to be easily intimidated ; that his 
followers were now enraged and desperate ; and that 
the issue of a midnight conflict, under any circum- 
stances, was doubtful. The risk of failure was too 
great; and if David should gain even a partial advan- 
tage over Ahithophel, the report of his success would 
be magnified, and, by consequence, the great body of 
the people would at once incline to his side. He pro- 
posed, therefore, that every Hebrew capable of bearing 
arms should be forthwith enlisted; and that Absalom 
himself, to whom the honor belonged, should assume 
the command of the army ; and concluded by adroitly 
intimating that, with such numbers, he might fall on 
David as the dew falls on the ground — or even draw 
the city of his refuge, with ropes, into the adjacent 
river ! * 

It might be supposed that the elders would have de- 
cided against Hushai's counsel ; but Absalom was the 
man around whom they had rallied — his pleasure was 
to be consulted : and though it required but little sa- 
gacity to foresee the issue of following Hushai's coun- 
sel, yet it fell in with Absalom's characteristic weakness. 
In this respect, bad advice differs from oood : the latter 
always exacts some denial of self — the former accords 
with inclination, and serves to gratify whatever passion 
may be predominant. Hence, a man of strong besetting 
sins, though he may confer with others, usually trusts 
in his own heart, and unconsciously aims to justify him- 
* 2 Sam. xvii. 1-13. 



118 THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 

self in taking his own course, even when seemingly de- 
sirous of deferring to superior and dispassionate judg- 
ment. By gathering all Israel, Absalom will have an 
opportunity of displaying himself; and, by commanding 
in person, will secure to himself all the glory of victory ; 
for, with so great an army, he at once precludes per- 
sonal risk, and David's escape ! 

Hushai knew his man, and adroitly aimed to flatter 
and blind him ; and thus by his management defeated 
counsel which, if followed, would have resulted in Da- 
vid's immediate and irretrievable overthrow : and it is 
in this way that the wisest counsels are sometimes frus- 
trated — that the pettifogger gains advantage over the 
jurist, the demagogue over the patriot, the ecclesiastic 
over the Christian. Here is the secret of that potent 
influence which Jesuitism wields, and of the danger to 
which men in authority are liable from crafty advisers. 
Csesar himself was at last conquered by his vanity : 



I tell him he hates flatterers 



He says he does — being then most flattered." 

There are times when duty calls to no arduous sacri- 
fice of self; but, as a general rule, that advice is to be 
cautiously received which ministers to the gratification 
of pride and vanity, or to any prevailing passion. This 
is the usual expedient of men having their own private 
ends to answer, when called on for their advice — to 
give, not that which will subserve the essential interests 
of a cause, but be most agreeable to inclination and 
gratifying to pride. It is especially the case with those 
who have changed sides in a controversy or an interest ; 



THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED, 119 

and hence such men, whether found in the church or 
state, are unworthy of confidence. 

Hushai had been known as David's friend, and David 
had probably conferred on him some signal benefits ; 
hence Absalom's exclamation on beholding him : " Is 
this thy kindness (thy gratitude) to thy friend ?" He 
was the last man whom Absalom could have expected 
to join his standard ; and on this account, notwithstand- 
ing his surprise at seeing him, he was only the more 
flattered by his coming. This simple circumstance 
might have led him to insist on Hushai's giving his 
counsel : it was a compliment, he might have thought, 
due to one who had made such personal sacrifices for 
his sake. So true is it that flatter)' blinds our eye to 
the true moral character and deserts of the flatterer : 
he makes us pleased with ourselves, and we reciprocate 
the compliment by being pleased with him. Opposition 
itself is often disarmed by an insinuating approach and 
deferential address. " I hate the traitor," said an an- 
cient general, " but I love the treason ;" and it is on the 
same principle that men can seldom resist the influence 
of flattery, even when proffered by those whom they 
hate or despise. 

Though Hushai had proposed to himself a laudable 
end, yet we cannot justify him in the means which he 
adopted. Because Absalom must be put down, is that 
Co say that Hushai shall become a dissembler and spy? 
False at heart, he assumes the mask of friendship, and 
receives, only to take advantage of, the confidence with 
which he is honored. He is not to be justified, unless 
they are who, under pretence of promoting God's glory, 



120 THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 

violate truth and justice. The actions of such may be 
overruled for good ; but, being wrong in themselves, 
they are as strictly blameworthy and punishable as though 
they had eventuated in evil. Nor can David be entirely 
exculpated — though it admits of a doubt whether he in- 
structed Hushai to violate truth to effect his end. His 
chief object in sending Hushai, was to be advised of 
Absalom's movements ; and so far, a wise precaution, 
justified by his son's usurpation and treachery. We 
can hardly suppose that David acted according to the 
maxim — since so common in the courts of kings — that 
" he who knows not how to dissemble, knows not how 
to govern." Perhaps he was not in a suitable frame of 
mind to contemplate the moral nature of an act; or, in 
his perplexity and distress, might not have been aware 
of the exact construction that would be put on his charge 
to Hushai. He knew that some action was imperiously 
necessary to arrest the progress of the rebellion, and that, 
whatever means might be adopted, it was not on these 
that implicit reliance could be placed. He is humbled 
and penitent — weeping, barefoot, shorn of his glory, and 
reduced to the last extremity. But behold, he prayeth ! 
And what is the burden of his prayer? That his own 
life might be spared, or the life of his son — or that his 
enemies might be destroyed ? No, but that the counsel 
of Ahithophel may be defeated. He knew that no one 
could cope with the disaffected counsellor ; that what- 
ever Hushai's adroitness, all would be in vain, unless 
God should interpose in his behalf — even that God 
who " taketh the wise in their own craftiness" — who 
"maketh the devices of the people of none effect" — 



THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 121 

" in whose hand is the heart of kings, and who turneth 
it whithersoever he will." He had been left out of the 
counsels of both Hushai and Ahithophel ; and, to human 
eye, there is in their respective counsels nothing out of 
the ordinary course of events : and the results, as in all 
similar cases, were apparently brought about by the one 
party overmastering or outwitting the other. Yet God 
was present in that deliberative assembly ; and, while 
permitting Hushai and Ahithophel to act out their own 
thoughts, was really and truly governing them and all their 
actions. 

No one can look at tiie respective tendencies of vir- 
tue and vice, or contemplate that retribution which not 
unfrequently overtakes the guilty, without perceiving 
that we live under a government which dispenses re- 
wards and punishments in a natural way ; nor can any 
one have an experience of life, without being forcibly 
reminded, either by some remarkable success or disap- 
pointment, some unaccountable suggestion, some sud- 
den and wonderful turn in the course of his affairs, that 
"it is not in man that walketh to direct his steps." Who 
can calculate with certainty on the issue of a single plan, 
much less on the result of any great undertaking? Xot 
that there is no connection between means and ends, or 
no regularity in the order of human events. Were we 
not susceptible to the influence of motives, and did not 
experience teach us that, as a general rule, certain con- 
sequences do follow from a particular course of action, 
man would be the sport of circumstances, or the victim 
of fate. But, though his conduct has a bearing on his 
temporal condition, so that there is an inseparable eon- 

11 



122 THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 

nection between idleness and poverty, vice and misery, 
improvidence and ruin — yet his wisest plans are some- 
times abortive, and the fruits of his persevering industry 
blasted : thus furnishing abundant exemplifications of 
the truth of those inspired sayings, that "the race is not 
always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong ;" that 
" promotion cometh neither from the east, nor from the 
west, nor from the south ;" — and thereby constraining 
every reflective mind to acknowledge the controlling 
agency of some Sovereign will. And in like manner, 
though certain things tend, on the one hand, to national 
as well as individual prosperity, and, on the other, lead 
to the destruction of empires as well as to the individual 
loss of health, property, character, and life ; and though 
we may account for great events, whether as connected 
with individuals or with states, on what are called sec- 
ondary principles ; yet may there almost invariably be 
detected some peculiar circumstances accompanying 
each event, which serve to reveal the hand of Him " by 
whom kings reign, and princes decree justice." 

How strange that Absalom should have given the 
preference to Hushai's counsel — when iVhithophel was 
the man to whose judgment his father, as well as the 
chief men of state, had been wont to defer; whose wis- 
dom he himself had been taught to regard as oracular, 
and to whose aid the success of his own conspiracy was 
chiefly owing ! At this early stage of the rebellion, it 
was, too, the most short-sighted policy to set aside the 
judgment of so. influential a man, in favor of one whose 
unexpected appearance under the circumstances ren- 
dered his motives open to suspicion. Absalom never 



THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 123 

intended to act contrary to Ahithophel's advice ; and in 
calling on Hushai for his opinion, probably had no other 
object than simply to secure his allegiance, by gratifying 
his self-consequence. Had Hushai been a little later, 
or not given a humoring turn to his views, Ahithophel's 
counsel would have been followed. But who so ordered 
events that Hushai should reach the council-chamber in 
time, and that his views should please Absalom ? Should 
it be said that it is beneath God to attend to the detail 
of human affairs, and that it is more reasonable to ac- 
count for the influence of Hushai's counsel on the score 
of Absalom's vanity, this would not annul our argument 
in favor of the extent of God's providential control ; for 
all great events can be traced to apparently trivial and 
contingent circumstances, with as much certainty as the 
midity river can be traced to the trickling rill. We 
need not refer to other instances of Providence which 
may be found in the inspired records : profane history 
abounds with ever-varying proofs of the dependence of 
the most weighty interests on seeming trifles. What 
led to the timely defence of Rome's ancient capitol, but 
the cackling of the sacred geese ? What occasioned 
the destruction of Carthage, but the sight of a fig shown 
in the senate-house at Rome ? What led to the detection 
of the gunpowder-plot, but a letter carelessly dropped, 
and, so to speak, accidentally found "? What was the 
ultimate cause of Marlborough's overthrow, but an ebul- 
lition of passion on the part of a woman ? What chained 
Napoleon to a rock in the ocean, but an event not more 
important in itself than that which fixed him for a time 
on the consular throne ? Such instances might be mul- 



124 THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 

tiplied indefinitely ; and if so, then is the history of our 
world, of men and empires, simply a history of God's 
dealings with the human family : and his providence 
may alike be recognised at all times and under all cir- 
cumstances — in all men's movements and purposes; in 
the life of every soul of man, as well as in the rise and 
fall of nations ; amid all the conflicting passions and in- 
terests of men, as well as in the diurnal revolution of 
the earth, or the ebb and flow of the ocean. 

There is no such thing as chance. Every atom has 
its law : not a sparrow falls to the ground without Heav- 
en's notice, nor is a hair of our head unnumbered. 
Chance ! it has no place in God's dominions. Even 
Science disowns it, while Religion shudders at the 
thought. Nothing- can come to pass without God's 
agency or God's permission. While controlling states 
and empires, he exercises an especial care and disci- 
pline over each member of the human family. Wars, 
famine., plagues, earthquakes, tempests, are his messen- 
gers, and not the less so because the less apparent or 
the less formidable any of these influences which result 
in poverty and pain, or in disease and death ; those tri- 
fling things which we call mistakes, or occurrences which 
we call casualties. Man may draw the bow, but the 
Lord directs the shaft. Man may make a mistake, but 
the Lord controls the issue. Man may cast his " lot 
into the lap," but " the whole disposing thereof is of 
the Lord." 

We have dwelt the longer on this point, because the 
fact that Ahithophel's counsel was defeated, and in the 
manner to which we have alluded, not only serves to 



THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 125 

establish the doctrine of Providence, but to show that, 
notwithstanding the minuteness of God's providential 
control, it does not interfere with either the operation 
of general laws, or with the freedom of choice. The 
laws of nature, as they are designated, are the effects of 
some external power : they imply the actual interposi- 
tion of a force from without, and thus reveal the con- 
stant operations of Deity. In any other sense than as 
expressive of the uniform modes of Divine agency, the 
phrase is without meaning. And if this be the fact in 
relation to the laws of the material world, why may it 
not be so with the laws of the human mind ? If it can- 
not be proved that God ever interferes with the opera- 
tion of general laws — if all events are seemingly brought 
about by what we are pleased to term secondary princi- 
ples — how can it be proved that, in his government 
over his rational creatures, God ever interferes with the 
freedom of the will, which, viewed as a law of the mind, 
is as clearly established as any law of the physical world ? 
or why needs the providence of God interfere with the 
power of willing any more than with the power of gravi- 
tation ? Every one is conscious, not of the power to 
think or not to think, to act or not to act — for this is 
not essential to liberty — but of the power to will or not 
to will — the power of a contrary choice; and, that in 
being influenced by either casual suggestions, or by ar- 
guments formally and urgently presented to his mind, 
he does not thereby forego the power of choice. In 
whatever way our acquiescence may be elicited, or our 
decision obtained, we are never conscious of a loss of 
voluntary power ; and he who has influenced us, never 

11* 



126 THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 

thinks of having destroyed our freedom. Why, then, 
may not God, by a secret direction of natural causes, or 
by giving occasion for a different train of thought, bring 
about any event, whether favorable or otherwise to an 
individual, without either offering violence to man's will, 
or suspending the operation of general laws. If it be 
said that God cannot exercise such a providence with- 
out destroying free moral agency, this is begging the 
question under consideration, and not only so, but de- 
termining by abstract reasoning a point which is beyond 
the limits of our knowledge, and at the same time falsify- 
ing the teachings of scriptural facts. 

In like manner, the fact that Ahithophel's counsel was 
defeated, enables us, when viewed in its connections, to 
account for sinful actions, without reflecting on the Di- 
vine perfection. If God's providence extends to men 
and all their thoughts and actions, it follows that he 
must permit sinful actions ; that he may limit them, and 
will overrule them. But though he permits, it does not 
follow that he approves the sinful actions of his creatures ; 
or, though he may limit, that he ought, if holy himself, 
to prevent ; or, though he overrules them for good, that 
he does not hate all sinful actions in themselves consid- 
ered — -much less, that they lose their moral turpitude 
by being overruled for good. He could not have ap- 
proved of Hushai's deception and falsehood ; yet he 
permitted him by such means to defeat Ahithophel's 
counsel. He could not have looked with complacency 
on Absalom ; yet he used him as an instrument, and 
overruled his conduct for David's good. 

Now, it is clear, from both the intimations of our 



THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 127 

moral sense, and the word of inspiration, that God is a 
perfect being ; cannot look on sin but with abhorrence ; 
will not hold any sinful creature guiltless ; and that he 
will treat every man according to his deserts : further 
than this we may not go. God cannot be the author of 
sin ; yet God must be, in some sense, the first cause of 
all the actions of his dependent creatures. Am I asked 
to reconcile these two positions? I cannot — no man 
can. No man can understand how God acts on inani- 
mate matter so as to move it by the law of gravitation, 
much less the mode and degree of his operations on 
spiritual beings. " Canst thou by searching find out 
God ?" No ; but of this we may be assured — that man 
cannot be independent of God, nor God unjust to man.* 
To show his displeasure at David's sin, God had de- 
termined to raise up evil against him from out of his 
own house ; and after bringing him by such means to a 
penitent sense of his sin, to reinstate him in his rightful 
possessions. Hence, all that was done by Absalom and 
his followers, and all that led to their discomfiture and 
defeat, was in accordance with the Divine arrangements : 
"The Lord had appointed to defeat the good counsel 

* All difficulties on this subject have arisen from the assumption of 
wrong premises in our reasonings, or from illegitimate deductions from 
true principles. Dependence does not necessarily involve the idea of 
fatalism, nor does the idea of free moral agency lead to the conclusion 
that man is the sovereign of his own actions. The ground, therefore, 
which the author takes, is this : that man is entirely dependent on God, 
yet responsible to God for all his acts; that God is holy, yet permits and 
controls all sinful actions. Be it so, that such positions do not relieve 
his mind from all speculative embarrassments; still he holds to them, 
resting assured that whatever difficulties may embarrass our specula- 
tions here, wrll be cleared up hereafter ; that the time cometh when 
God will be seen to be, and adoringly acknowledged by an assembled 
universe, " clear when he judges, and just when he condemns." 



128 THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 

of Ahithophel, to the intent that the Lord might bring 
evil upon Absalom." We have before us, then, the Di- 
vine purpose, David's prayer, and Hushai's instrumen- 
tality. Unless God had determined to arrest Absalom 
in his rebellious course, neither David's prayer nor 
Hushai's errand would have availed ; and unless David 
had prayed that the counsel of Ahithophel might be de- 
feated, and Hushai had gained a hearing in Absalom's 
councils, the Divine purpose would not have been ac- 
complished. There is, therefore, an intimate connection 
between God's purposes and human means ; and the 
particulars of this narrative may serve to teach us, that 
whatever the end which God has determined, he has 
determined all the means essential to that end, not ex- 
cepting the prayers of his people. 

We are, moreover, furnished with an answer to the 
various objections often made to prayer — objections 
founded as much in ignorance of its nature as in imper- 
fect views of the Divine economy. Prayer is the offer- 
ing up of our desires for things agreeable to the Divine 
will, and therefore God's immutability should constitute 
no hinderance to our prayers ; nor would an answer to 
prayer imply that he is changeable in his purposes — it 
would be simply an instance of his immutable rectitude 
in suiting his dealings with us to our character and dis- 
position. Or, as God has predetermined all things, it 
does not follow that prayer is useless, unless it follows 
that all human means are vain for the same reason — 
much less that, because God knows our wants, prayer 
is useless ; since our acknowledgment of our wants 
may be the predetermined means of our relief, and the 



THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 129 

very circumstance, in our characters, that contributes to 
render us the proper objects of the Divine regard. Nor 
is it vanity and presumption in us to suppose that the 
great God will heed our prayers, since he himself has 
commanded us*to pray ; and, being our sovereign law- 
giver, must be pleased with the obedience of his crea- 
tures. 

It has been said that man has too little sagacity to 
resolve an infinity of questions, which he has yet saga- 
city enough to make ; but there is this peculiarity in all 
such difficulties as may embarrass his mind in relation 
to prayer: they all vanish, when, in the providence of 
God, he is reduced to an extremity. Whatever may 
have been one's sentiments on the subject of religion, 
let him only be placed in circumstances of imminent 
danger, of pressing want, or of heart-breaking sorrow, 
and involuntarily does he look up to God, as to the only 
source whence help can come. It is in such circum- 
stances that the Christian feels only the more impelled 
to the throne of grace. David was a man of prayer ; 
but we can easily conceive that he never prayed under 
a deeper sense of God's sovereignty, and his own help- 
lessness and sinfulness, than when he prayed that the 
counsel of Ahithophel might be defeated. 

There are on sacred record various instances of prayer 
answered : thus, in answer to the prayer of Abraham, 
Abimelech's family were delivered from their distresses ; 
and God also assured Abraham, in answer to prayer, 
that if ten righteous men should be found in the cities 
of the plain, he would spare those cities. So, in an- 
swer to the prayer of Moses, the Israelites were deliv- 



ISO THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 

ered from various evils ; of Job, God forgave the folly 
and sin of his friends ; of Gideon, the dew fell on the 
ground and not on the fleece, and again on the fleece 
and not on the grouud ; of Samuel, the Lord thundered 
on the Philistines, and wrought a great deliverance for 
Israel ; of Hezekiah, the mighty army of Sennacherib 
perished in one night ; of Daniel, Gabriel was sent 
to explain the vision which he had seen ; and of Cor- 
nelius, an angel was sent to direct him to the apostle 
who should teach him the way of salvation. But amid 
such instances, none is so striking to my own mind as 
David's prayer, or carries with it so deep a meaning. 
What a tribute to God's omniscience and all-pervading 
agency ! How does that prayer serve to disclose Him 
to our contemplations, as presiding over all human coun- 
cils as well as human actions — able to make the hidden 
devices of man's heart, alike with all the laws of nature, 
subservient to his high purposes ! Was that prayer 
answered ? were the counsels of Ahithophel defeated ? 
What, then, should be our recourse, when enemies en- 
compass us, but prayer — so that God may turn their 
hearts ? To whom should we look but to him, when 
domestic troubles have driven peace from our hearth, or 
when political dissensions endanger the peace and pros- 
perity of our land ? Who but he that sitteth on the cir- 
cle of the heavens, can save us from evil counsels, or 
counteract the devices of the wicked ? 

If other instances of the efficacy of prayer were want- 
ing, the manner in which David's prayer was answered 
teaches us that there is power in prayer — a power 
which can control the cabinets of princes, and arrest the 



THE COXSPIRACY DEFEATED. 131 

desolating march of war ; before which the haughtiest 
ruler may hang his head as a bulrush, and the wisest 
statesman stand convicted of his folly. 

Many in Israel might have looked on David's cause 
as hopeless. His enemies in their triumph reproached 
him, saying, "Where is now thy God?" He is de- 
nounced as a bloody man, and stoned by a rebel. But 
penitence is opposed to despondency, meekness to inju- 
ries, and prayer to policy. Strange contrast does he 
present to those who had driven him from his throne ! 
While they are exulting in their success, he is shedding 
bitter tears ; while they pride themselves on their num- 
bers, he prostrates himself in the dust on account of his 
sins ; they are plotting against his life, he giving him- 
self unto prayer. Despise him who may, as a weak and 
foolish man, unworthy to have the rule of a nation. 
The worldly-wise are still too prone to look down with 
sentiments akin to pity on one who prays. But that 
prayer of David's prevailed with God, to the final over- 
throw of Absalom and his followers ! 

What befell Hushai we know not : doubtless he feli- 
citated himself in having cajoled Absalom ; but as no 
mention is afterward made of him, it is probable he fell 
in the general battle that ensued between the king and 
the insurgents. 

But where is he who had joined the conspiracy under 
so strong a persuasion that he would be the oracle of the 
party ? That boasted wisdom of his has been turned 
into foolishness. And where now are his ambitious 
plans ? what is there to support that high estimate of his 
powers which scorned comparison with the " muddy- 



132 THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 

pated" throng? Instead of enjoying the power and 
place which he had anticipated in reward for his coun- 
sels, disgrace and punishment due to treason stare him 
in the face. It were vain, however, to attempt to depict 
the passions which racked his mind — his contemptuous 
hate, his wounded pride, his disappointed ambition, each 
giving place in turn to the agonizing conviction that all 
is lost. To have espoused the cause of a hairbrained 
youth, only to be at last subjected to so deep a mortifi- 
cation ; been on the eve of final triumph, only to witness 
the most ruinous counsels prevail over his clear and 
certain judgment — was an ordeal to which his moral 
strength was fearfully unequal. Too much outraged to 
submit to the indignity offered to his wisdom, and yet 
too proud to return to his allegiance ; foreseeing Absa- 
lom's ruin, and the king's vengeance, dark thoughts 
take possession of his mind ; and he returns to his 
home, not to give vent to his contending emotions, nor 
to brood in sullen silence over the wreck of his proud 
hopes, but to " set his house in order !" Strange that 
the associations of home did not calm his troubled 
breast — that the warm welcome and kindly words of 
its once-loved inmates did not cause him to relent in 
his fell purpose ; but he was not the man to waver, hav- 
ing once come to a decision, much less to draw back 
from any deliberate resolve. To avoid the ignomini- 
ous end of a traitor, he dies the awful death of a suicide ! 
Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom. Ahitho- 
phel, notwithstanding his wisdom, died as a fool dies. 
His death has been recorded as a warning to all who 
think, by their own far-sightedness, to overreach God's 



THE CONSPIRACY DEFEATED. 133 

providence. He who " thinks of himself more hi^hlv 
than he ought to think.*' will yet see another preferred 
before him. He who leaves God out of his counsels, 
will in due time be left of God " to eat of the fruit of 
his own ways." Sooner or later, every Ahithophel is 
" snared in the work of his own hands. *' and sinks into 
the pit of his own digging. 

Men may say in their hearts. ;i There is no God;'* 
or impiously inquire. " What profit shall we have if we 
pray unto him '?" Still. God reigns. He will confound 
the wisdom of the wise, humble the proud heart, and 
overrule all evil counsels to the furtherance of his own 
sovereign purposes. 

Ahithophel sought to compass David's death ; but, in 
so doing, dug his own grave. In like manner. Caiaphas 
conspired against the son of David, and flattered him- 
self that he had succeeded : but that ;i one man" who, 
for expediency's sake. " was put to death for the nation." 
declared himself to be the Son of God with power, by 
his rising: from the dead. Yes ; he rose — to pour shame 
on the wisdom of the Sanhedrim, to abash the lofty looks 
of his enemies, to assume the sceptre of universal domin- 
ion, to overturn and overrule, until ,; the kingdoms of 
this world shall become the kingdoms of our Lord, and 
of his Christ!" 

12 



134 THE SELF-IDOLATER. 



THE SELF-IDOLATER. 

The historical Scriptures cannot be read with profit 
unless the object for which they were written be kept 
in mind ; and this was, not to gratify curiosity, much less 
to silence cavils; not to transmit the knowledge of Hebrew 
manners and customs, nor an account of every thing that 
happened to the Hebrews as a people ; but to record 
only such occurrences as were best adapted to illustrate 
the Divine authority of their religion, — to set before them 
an abstract of God's proceedings ; and, in furnishing 
posterity with an instructive view of the Divine attri- 
butes, to exhibit in the depravity of a miraculously gov- 
erned and divinely instructed nation, the necessity of 
that redemption which had been so early promised by 
the prophets. 

Though the sacred historians did not derive from 
Revelation the knowledge of those things which might 
be gathered from the common sources of human intel- 
ligence — from public records and authentic documents ; 
yet were they restrained by God's spirit from registering 
material error ; and, as they had an acquaintance with 
the counsels and designs of God, and often revealed 
his dispensations in the clearest predictions, it follows 
that they were at times directly inspired, as they were 



THE SELF-IDOLATER. 135 

always superintended by the Holy Ghost. Hence their 
unity of design — the grand moral purpose of all such 
matters as they relate. Viewed in this light, each por- 
tion may be rendered subservient to our spiritual cul- 
ture ; and it is with reference to this that the historical 
Scriptures should be read ; not to detect flaws or urge 
objections; not to display our "knowledge of science 
falsely so called," or to furnish ourselves with weapons 
for controversy, much less for uncharitableness and 
abuse ; but, as it were, to ask one's self, "Of what sin 
does this convince me ? or against what danger does 
it warn me ? Is my deportment suitable to this de- 
scription or good example ? or do I see myself here, 
under another's name, reproved and condemned ? Have 
I acquired that sense of my own need of atoning blood 
and sanctifying grace, which the whole tenor of Scrip- 
ture inculcates ? or am I still inclined to stand or fall 
by my own righteousness ?" 

Viewed in any other light than as indited by God, or 
separate from the purpose for which they were design- 
ed, the histories of the kings of Israel are of no more 
account to us, than the fabulous reign of Sesostris, or 
the tales of the Genii. But though God's voice in sacred 
history may not be heeded, it must be heard; though 
the inspired record may be degraded to a level with na- 
tional annals, its fidelity to the workings of man's heart 
and conscience, to the established order of things in 
this world, to the issues of human plans, and to the 
consequences of departing from God and duty, cannot 
be intelligently denied. The same men, under other 
names, exist now ; the same things., in other relations, 



136 THE SELF-IDOLATER. 

are done now ; the same changes in moral and religious 
character are now too often seen ; and the disastrous 
results of human action, in any given case, may always 
be traced to similar defects in principle or errors in life, 
which require no prophet's eye to detect, though to 
expose which, a prophet's fidelity be often needed. 

But we may not anticipate the relations to our own 
times, of Asa's history.* 

Toward the close of his reign, the king of Israel 
adopted measures to check the emigration of his sub- 
jects, and to reduce the power of Judah ; and Asa, in- 
stead of deferring to the authority, and respecting the 
providence of the Most High, solicited foreign aid, and 
consummated by sacrilege a treaty with an infidel king. 
Such an act imperiously demanded, and as promptly 
received, the Divine rebuke. But instead of thankful- 
ly receiving the admonition of God's faithful servant, 
Asa forthwith imprisoned Hanani, and oppressed those 
who ventured to show their just disapprobation of his 
conduct. These acts bespeak any other views and feel- 
ings than such as became a man whom God had placed 
on the throne of Judah ; and had we no other informa- 
tion respecting him, we should conclude that he must 
have been malignant in his temper and despotic in his 
measures — a bad man, alike void of integrity^ of can- 
dor, and of faith. This conclusion would seem to be on- 
ly the more reasonable, when we found that he had re- 
ceived his early education from Maachah, the daughter 01 
a noted idolater. But no man is to be judged from any 
one act ; much less does any one act justify a sweep- 

* 2 Chron. xvl 7-14- 



THE SELF-IDOLATER. 137 

ing conclusion against his previous character : nor is it 
consistent with the results of observation, to argue too 
positively from early impressions to their ultimate devel- 
opment in the life. We know that the tendency of a 
good education is too often counteracted by the world's 
appeals to pride and selfishness ; and, on the other hand, 
that subsequent religious instructions may more than 
make amends for early disadvantages — serving, in some 
instances, to rectify wrong views, and change the heart's 
desires. Too much importance cannot be attached to 
the inculcation of right principles on the youthful mind. 
As are the impressions of the youth, such will be the 
actions of manhood. This is the general law in the 
formation of moral character, and all exceptions from it 
do but go to show how great must be the power of de- 
pravity, when it cannot be held in check by the hallowed 
influences of a religious education. 

But notwithstanding the untoward influences to which 
his youth was exposed, Asa, on succeeding to the throne 
at his father's death, was reputedly pious. By what 
means he was led to proper views and sentiments in 
relation to the divinely authorized polity of the Hebrew 
nation, we are not informed ; but it is certain that, in 
the transactions to which we have referred, he acted 
against his knowledge of God, against his past belief in 
Providence, and against his remarkable experience of the 
Divine goodness and faithfulness — contrary, too, to the 
specific instructions and faithful warnings which he had 
been wont to receive and value. No one could have 
expected that he would be guilty of such conduct, for 
he had been signally favored by Heaven, and eminently 

12* 



138 THE SELF-IDOLATER. 

prospered in all the measures of his rule. He who now 
invokes the aid of Benhadad, once called on God, and, 
with inferior forces, defeated the mighty hosts of Zerah ; 
he who now puts his trust in an idolatrous monarch, had 
but lately caused his people to enter with himself into a 
solemn engagement on no account whatever to forsake 
the true God, and had even expelled his own mother 
from the court, because she persisted in her idolatrous 
practices ; he who now casts the bearer of God's reproof 
into prison, and in the violence of his temper oppresses 
his people, once listened reverently and submissively to 
the voice of the prophets, and exerted himself with sin- 
gular vigor to restore the worship of Jehovah to its 
primitive magnificence. Hence the futility of all argu- 
ments in favor of one's innocence, drawn from his past 
character. 

Asa's history furnishes a sad instance of flagrant de- 
parture from the ways of God's commandments ; and 
as such, demands serious reflection — even close and 
patient scrutiny into its j:>robable causes. 

We are wont to urge men to embrace religion, but 
seldom think of the danger of our own relapse into the 
ways of the world. We are wisely solicitous that the 
3'oung should be brought to the knowledge and belief 
of the truth, but too often neglect to caution the aged 
ao-ainst the temptations to which they themselves are 
exposed. 

By referring to the record, it will be perceived that, 
during the greater part of his reign, Asa gave evidence 
of being a just prince and religious man. He expelled 
the Sodomites, and eradicated the vices which his prede- 



THE SELF-IDOLATER. 139 

cessor had sanctioned in the land. He abolished the 
idols, and the altars, and the groves, belonging to the 
high places, and commanded his subjects to worship the 
true God. Rest was given to the land, and this he im- 
proved in carrying on the work of reformation, in forti- 
fying his frontier cities, and in raising a well-disciplined 
army. It might be supposed that he was naturally led 
to vaunt himself on his success, and to rely on the force 
of his arms ; but we have as yet no reason to conclude 
that he has forgotten his dependence and obligations. 
On the contrary, he deeply realizes his need of Divine 
protection, and most humbly invokes the aid of Heaven 
before engaging in his unequal warfare with the Ethio- 
pian king. As, under that economy, the Divine favor 
was always enjoyed so long as the kins: retained his alle- 
giance, God crowned his arms, though greatly inferior 
in force to those of his enemy, with signal victory ; and 
Asa, on his return to Jerusalem, devoted himself anew 
to the work of reformation. The things which his father 
had dedicated, with the greater part of his late spoils, he 
consecrated to God ; and having repaired the altar of 
burnt-offering, sacrificed there all the oxen and sheep he 
had taken from the Ethiopians. Acting under the in- 
fluence of Azariah's charge to him to be strong, he 
ceased not in his efforts, until every symbol of idolatry 
was swept from the land, and the people to a man had 
bound themselves not to forsake the Lord their God. 
In consequence of this, Azariah was commissioned to 
assure him of the Divine protection and favor, and for 
some years Judah enjoyed a state of profound peace : 
the worship of Jehovah was maintained — his ordinances 



140 THE SELF-IDOLATER. 

and statutes were observed ; and so prosperous was the 
land, that multitudes of the pious Israelites, dissatisfied 
with the state of things under their king Baasha, flocked 
over day by day to Asa's dominions. 

In thus conducting himself, and promoting the inter- 
ests of religion, we admit, as is stated, that his heart was 
"perfect" — that is, he was sincere; but, though thus 
perfect, might not a false zeal have mingled with his purer 
impulses, and his work been prosecuted with too much 
animal excitement ? If so, there was danger of a reac- 
tion, and, with a change of circumstances, he would 
become indifferent just in proportion to the excess of 
his zeal ; and in the absence of all outward excitements, 
seek his pleasure in sensual indulgences. Amid the 
repose and abundance of his realm, there must have 
been temptations to sloth and luxury, which, if not stead- 
fastly resisted, would gradually impair his sense of 
dependence, and inflate him with pride. 

Such evils are wont to ensue, as over-excitement in 
well-doing subsides, or success in the work of reforma- 
tion gives rise to self-complacency. Religious enthusi- 
asm, though not at variance with the most perfect sin- 
cerity, is proverbially evanescent. Mere feeling may 
be mistaken for principle ; and, when this is the case, a 
man may become not merely indifferent to the cause 
which he had honestly espoused — he may yet be seen 
to undo all that he had so zealously done. Thus, 
Joash lived to restore the groves and the idols which 
in his zeal for reformation he had once destroyed ; and, 
although Asa cannot be chargeable with such flagrant 
inconsistency, it is obvious that he must at last have 



THE SELF-IDOLATER. 141 

insensibly lost his horror of idolatry, or he would not 
have formed an alliance with an idolater, and purchased 
his friendship at the expense of the Lord's treasures. 

In like manner, whatever may be one's' fervor of de- 
votion, or his humility in times of trial, unless habitually 
circumspect and prayerful, he will not be able to with- 
stand the corrupting influences of long-continued pros- 
perity. Years had passed away since the last idol that 
polluted the land had been burnt in the valley of Hin- 
nom ; the immense forces of Ethiopia had been routed 
and dispersed ; no enemy dared now to invade the bor- 
ders of Judah ; while, in the meantime, its resources had 
been developed, and its population greatly increased. 
Asa has become a great king, not less in his own esti- 
mation than in the view of surrounding nations — enti- 
tled to pre-eminence, not less on account of his achieve- 
ments at home and abroad, than his hereditary posses- 
sions and personal dignity. See how the wicked fear 
him, and the good praise him ; how strangers crowd his 
presence, vying with each other in every mark of defer- 
ence and respect; how at last sycophants gain his ear 
for selfish purposes, and flattery distils its poison into his 
heart. Great king ! the conscious favorite of both God 
and man ! How can God ever withdraw his protection 
from one whom he has so signally honored ? how can 
the people object to any thing their renowned and suc- 
cessful sovereign may propose ? Baasha has indeed 
poured an army into the country of Benjamin, and 
thinks to overawe Jerusalem by the fort which he has 
suddenly built at so strong a post as Ramah ; but Baasha 
is only envious of his greatness, and Asa will defeat him 



142 THE SELF-IDOLATER. 

with his own weapons. Baasha, conscious of his own 
weakness, has secured by treaty the aid of Benhadad, 
the king of Syria; but Asa will show his sagacity in 
breaking that treaty, and in securing to himself the 
Syrian arms. The arms of an idolater may be turned 
against so idolatrous and wicked a king as Baasha ; and 
if Benhadad can be conciliated, and his friendship se- 
cured, he himself may yet throw away his idols. Thus, 
in the pride of his heart, might Asa have reasoned ; and 
when such ends were to be answered, the treasures of 
the Lord's house might be not injudiciously appropri- 
ated ! Self, however, was at the bottom of his move- 
ment, not the glory of God — self, which sought to de- 
monstrate to an envious neighbor the superior tact and 
resources of Judah's king ; self, which now so often 
seeks its gratification at the expense of truth and right. 
There can be no surer criterion of self-idolatry than to 
act irrespectively of God and duty. Though good ends 
may be proposed, the use of exceptionable means be- 
trays a heart devoid of confidence in God's providence, 
and all deference to the authority of his law. Asa had 
dethroned all the gods of wood and stone ; but he has 
come at last to bow down to an image which is enshrined 
in the recesses of his own bosom. He will wage war 
in union with an idolater, for that wicked king Baasha 
has insulted the majesty of his own proud image ! Suc- 
cess will ratify the wisdom of Asa's policy, justify his 
sacrilegious act, impress the terrors of his arms, and 
extend the limits of his beneficent rule ! 

But the sequel proves that success is no criterion of 
right. Instigated by the valuable presents which he 



THE SELF-IDOLATER. 143 

received from Asa, and by the hopes of extending his 
power, Benhadad forthwith invaded the northern parts 
of Baasha's kingdom, and compelled several cities to 
surrender ; while Asa, from the south, retook Raman, 
and, with the very materials which "Baasha had em- 
ployed to fortify it, fortified for himself Geba and west- 
ern Mizpah. Such a movement proves that Asa was a 
man of no ordinary forethought and energy ; and, did 
we not know to the contrary, we might infer, from the 
favorable opening of the campaign, that God had not 
disapproved of the measures which Asa had taken to 
defeat his enemy. But the fact that Hanani, by Divine 
direction, sharply rebuked him for his treacherous appli- 
cation for heathenish aid, and the profane use which he 
had made of the consecrated treasures, proves that the 
enjoyment of outward good is no evidence of Heaven's 
approbation. Men may prosper in their unhallowed 
gains, rise to the world's high places, or revel in luxury 
and roll on the wheels of splendor; but their violations 
of truth and honesty, their intrigues and slanders, and 
selfish use of those talents which belong to God, are all 
marked against them in the book of his remembrance, 
and will one day be brought home to their guilty bo- 
soms. Had Asa been defeated in battle, he would have 
admitted the justness of the prophet's rebuke ; but he 
was exulting in the issues of his treaty : and the fact that 
God had prospered him in his aims, seemed to give a 
practical refutation to the prophet's charge, and to place 
him in the attitude of a pragmatical and censorious man. 
No men in their thoughts and actions are further from 
God, yet none oftener presume on his favor, than they 



144 THE SELF-IDOLATER. 

who have succeeded in their ambitious or avaricious 
aims. It is their success that infatuates them, render- 
ing them insensible to their sins, and proof against con- 
viction. 

Success even in a good work may be as hazardous to 
religious character as in any worldly concerns. That 
honor which belongs to Him " from whom all just works 
do proceed," may be virtually appropriated by the man 
himself: spiritual pride sets in to vitiate singleness of 
purpose, and remissness follows, to end in apathy or in 
selfish indulgences. The greater his success, the greater 
his danger, and the more need for watchfulness against 
the suggestions of a proud and deceitful heart ; nor is 
there any more insidious foe to personal piety than per- 
sonal popularity in God's service. It is familiar to 
observation, that but few are able to withstand the com- 
bined influence of success in their efforts and attention 
to their persons. The lamentable effect is visible in 
a change of address, if not change of living, until 
self-confidence and self-esteem sanction exceptionable 
means ; or the proud, imperious will betrays itself in 
the man's scorn of reproof. Asa's unbounded success, 
and the flattering attentions which he received from the 
pious Israelites, more than any other causes, led him to 
forget his dependence and obligations ; and in this re- 
spect his history is fraught with solemn lessons to every 
one whom God has raised to an honored pre-eminence 
in his service. 

It is strange, we think, that he could have lost sight 
of the deliverances which he had experienced — of the 
outstretched arm that had aided him in achieving the 



THE SELF-IDOLATER. 145 

victory over his numerous enemies, and in effecting so 
great a reformation among his people : but it is not so 
remarkable as that Hezekiah should have been actually 
proud of the miracles wrought in his behalf; and, in- 
stead of declaring the praises of God before Baladan's 
messengers, so far forgotten himself, through their flat- 
tering attentions to him, as vainly to show them every 
thing rare and valuable in his treasures. So have I 
seen a man displaying self, when he should have been 
a true witness for God — parading his intellectual trin- 
kets to gratify personal vanity, when he should have 
been true to the hearts and consciences of his admirers, 
that he might save their souls from death! Are such 
circumstances too trifling to notice? — Asa involved 
himself in unceasing waTs ; Hezekiah brought on him- 
self and his subjects the wrath of the Lord ; Uzziah, for 
the sin of displaying self in the temple of the Lord, was 
smitten with the leprosy : and where is the man, whom 
the pride of success or of popular favor infatuates, that 
shall not yet be rebuked by Providence, or brought to 
humble himself before God for his idolatry of self? 

But when one is seen to fall from the standard of 
truth and duty which he had proposed to himself, or to 
counteract the work to which he was ostensibly devoted, 
we may not respond to the harsh judgment of the world, 
and denounce him as a hypocrite. He may have mis- 
taken animal feelings for the influence of the Spirit— 
his love of action and excitement for the love of truth 
and duty — and deceived himself, without being con- 
scious of any wrong views ; or, not being on his guard 
against his besetting sins (his pride and vanity, or his 

13 



146 THE SELF-IDOLATER. 

love of self-indulgence) he may have been led away 
before he was aware of his danger. Asa was never per- 
fect, that is, free from sin: in this sense the word is not 
scripturally employed ; but he was sincere, and in this 
respect "his 'heart was perfect all his days." He was 
opposed to the worship of any but the true God, and 
would suffer no idol to pollute the land ; and it is sup- 
posable that he might have presumed on the ground of 
his work, and making a merit of his devotion to the in- 
terests of true religion, been led, through the deceitful- 
ness of sin, to think that, by purchasing Benhadad's 
friendship, which seemed so essential to the effective 
defence of his land from the invasion of an idolater, he 
should not incur the Divine displeasure. 

It is natural to men to offset the discharge of one 
duty against the neglect of another ; to rely on the Divine 
favor, in consequence of having once done well — per- 
haps performed a great work ! though they may now be 
conforming to the ways of the world and countenancing 
its errors. Such, however, are not hypocrites. No one 
justly merits this opprobrious epithet who does not 
knowingly avail himself of religious usages for selfish 
purposes — or intentionally, for the sake of either repu- 
tation or gain, assume an appearance in public which 
his private life belies. Yet a sincere man will have his 
imperfections — as Asa, notwithstanding his zealous de- 
votion to the true religion, permitted the " high places" 
to remain ; nor in his backslidings may one be less sin- 
cere in his view of essential truth, and in his professed 
attachment to the church of God. This very conscious- 
ness of sincerity may often facilitate self-deception ; and 



THE SELF-IDOLATER. 147 

in no other way can we account for the anomaly of an 
orthodox head and a heterodox life. The hypocrite 
could not fail to condemn and loathe himself, were not 
his heart hardened ; but the backslider, by hoodwinking 
his conscience, contrives to hope. 

It is painfully evident that, without formally casting 
off their allegiance to God, men may depart from him 
in spirit. To this end worldly prosperity especially 
contributes, and hence it is so hazardous to the integrity 
of Christian faith and practice. It is not uncommon for 
men, as they rise in the world, to lose sight of Him to 
whom they owe the success of their secular underta- 
kings — thus conforming more and more to the ways of 
the world, though flattering themselves that they are 
true to the church ; conciliating the friendship of the 
world at the expense of Christian principles, and for 
selfish ends contracting alliances without regard to the 
will of God or the honor of religion. There is no 
longer any prayerful deference to God, or confidence in 
his word, much less an eye single to his glory ; though 
his name may still be named, and the ordinances of his 
house formally observed. Thus, self becomes the gov- 
erning principle, and a worldly policy the rule of life. 
Thus, religious character undergoes an essential change, 
until it is difficult to admit that he who now gives forth 
all the evidences of self-idolatry, was once an humble 
worshipper of God — this proud and politic world- 
ling, once a zealous reformer, perhaps a burning revi- 
valist ! 

Those very prosperous circumstances in which the 
man is placed, and which should render him the more 



148 THE SELF-IDOL ATE F. 

grateful and humble, often serve only to minister to the 
heart's native passions, until self becomes arbitrary and 
imperious. Who could have thought that the king who, 
in his extremity, had so humbly called on God, would, 
in his prosperity, act independently of God ? who once 
solicitously inquired the path of duty, would at last 
resent the least intimation of his sin? who once ban- 
ished from his realm every idolatrous priest, would, in 
his rage, imprison a prophet of the Lord for simply 
reminding him of God's forgotten mercies and faithful 
promises? 

So great a king was not to be reproved by any man ; 
not even by a prophet of the Lord! And thus it is, 
that they who have been uplifted by prosperity, and who 
consequently idolize themselves, can endure no opposi- 
tion, much less brook reproof. Flatter such you may, 
and you will be their friend ; but to reprove such, or 
even to venture a wise caution, a timely suggestion for 
their good, is to be regarded as their enemy. This is 
known to be the case ; and hence, men who have been 
raised by Providence from circumstances of poverty or 
obscurity, and who now stand high in affluence or in 
honor, are seldom told their faults. But few will ven- 
ture on the perilous errand of faithful Christian rebuke; 
because they who do, oftener than otherwise, meet with 
the reception that Hanani did from the king — 'Who 
are you to reflect on my character and course ? I know 
the estimation in which I am held. Behold my success. 
See how many have sought my patronage, and what al- 
liances I have formed ! It is the suggestion of envy, 
or the charge of malice.' So true is it, that no man 



THE SELF-IDOLATER. 149 

idolizes self more than he who resents Christian re- 
proof for his sins. 

But he who sins against the light of truth, and re- 
jects admonitory counsel, Will probably be left to him- 
self. The king is not ignorant that God governs the 
world in wisdom ; that all his creatures, in all places 
of his dominions, are under his immediate inspection; 
that he orders and will overrule all things for " Jacob 
his servant's sake, and Israel his elect." He has even 
known from his own experience, that God will show 
himself strong in behalf of those whose hearts are up- 
right before him ; but now he leans to his own under- 
standing, and relies on an arm of flesh, practically re- 
nouncing his belief in God's universal providence ; 
and, more than all, will not allow a prophet of the Lord 
to interfere with his worldly purposes. 

But shall not the judgments of Heaven bring him to a 
sense of his sin and folly? We have no reason to sup- 
pose that the wars which the prophet denounced against 
him, and in which he was involved for years, might have 
led him to reflect on the past, and penitently return in 
heart to God. What would have been the issue of his 
conflicts with Baasha we cannot say ; but he is now to 
be arrested in his selfish schemes and godless battles. 
The time is at hand when he. must bid farewell to his 
greatness, and close his eyes on the scene of his pride. 
The repeated assaults of a mysterious disease are fast 
making their way to the citadel of his heart. . Asa is 
stretched in agony on his dying bed ! And do not 
abused mercies and neglected warnings and excuseless 
sins rush to his remembrance ? Does he not send for 
13* 



150 THE SELF-IDOLATER. 

the injured prophet, and entreat his forgiveness, and an 
interest in his prayers ? Is he not reminded in this 
the hour of his dire extremity, that no being in the uni- 
verse can help him, save that God who listened to his 
cry, when the huge hosts of the Lubims threatened to 
swallow up his kingdom ? All that man can do for him 
his physicians are now doing ; and does he not even 
look unto God to direct and bless human means for his 
recovery ? No ; even in his last hour he relied not on 
God. He who put his trust in Benhadad, now puts his 
trust in his physicians. There is no intimation that he 
repented and was pardoned, as in the case of David ; 
or that he cried unto God when brought down to the 
gate of death, as in the case of Hezekiah. All that is 
said of him is that " he put his trust in his physicians." 
There is a significancy in this, which renders comment 
almost unnecessary. He put his trust in his physicians 
— that is, in man, not in God. That God, in whose 
service he had been employed and honored— who had 
so greatly prospered and enriched his country; inter- 
posed for his deliverance from the power of a ruthless 
enemy ; sent his prophet in all kindness to expostulate 
with him ; and even aimed by his judgments to bring 
him to a penitent sense of his sin — that God, for whose 
sake he himself had abolished all false gods, and with 
whom he had once compelled his people to enter into 
covenant — is left out of view, as though he had been an 
ideal being, and had no control over life and death. 
In his last hour Asa knew no God but self. Perhaps 
his physicians burned incense to his idol ; and, by flat- 
tering his vanity, blinded him to his condition. Be this 



THE SELF-IDOLATER. 151 

as it may, he died trusting in them. This was his last 
act ! 

Thus die the wicked — their last act, their last utter- 
ance, their last thought, is sin ! And are we to con- 
clude that when a man becomes estranged from the prin- 
ciples of the gospel, loses all that is spiritual in religion, 
#ives himself up to the devices and desires of his own 
heart, and dies in his impenitence, that he will be made 
holy at death ? This is the prevalent impression ; but 
it is no less unphilosophical than unscriptural. What 
greater absurdity can there be, than to suppose that the 
dissolution of the body regenerates the soul ? As well 
conclude that the putting off our clothes at night chan- 
ges our physical nature. But as we awake from natu- 
ral sleep to revolve again the thoughts and to renew the 
devices of yesterday, so shall we awake in eternity to 
the consciousness of having the same character which 
we sustained in time ; with this difference only, that 
our thoughts and feelings will then be inconceivably 
vivid, and that we shall find nothing there as here to 
blind our eye to the true character of our moral self. 
Character at death, is character for eternity. Amid 
the scenes and interests of earth, man may exclude the 
thought of God and retribution ; but to die is to be dis- 
abused of all false impressions, divested of all the infat- 
uations of self-love, denuded of all but conscience ! to 
die, is to burst on the feeling of unmingled good, or of 
unmitigated evil — to be conscious of nothing but the 
presence of God as our friend, or our enemy — it is 
heaven or hell to the soul ! 

But notwithstanding the exceptionable and sinful acts 



152 THE SELF*ID0LATER. 

of his reign, though the manner in which he died was 
equivalent to a practical renunciation of that religion 
which he had at first labored with so much diligence to 
re-establish, yet the people did honor to his remains, 
and buried him with great pomp and ceremony. Had 
he been as holy a man as he was a great prince, they 
could have done no more to testify their appreciation 
of his reign, and their respect for his memory. His 
treacherous alliance was nothing to them, so long as Asa 
returned victorious ; his treatment of the prophet, and 
of those who sympathized with the prophet, of no con- 
sequence, while their private interests were not affected. 

Thus judges the world ; whatever a man's character, 
though it may have been at variance with truth and 
righteousness, if he had only distinguished himself, they 
will gather around his bier in all the imposing pageant- 
ry of grief. No inference, therefore, in favor of one's 
future condition, can be drawn from the manner in which 
he w r as interred. Where man has erected a mausoleum, 
God may have written I-chabod ! 

Every man should have a grave, as well as a house ; 
and so live as to be always prepared for death, and that, 
a£ -death, his remains may be carried to their last home, 
not in pomp, but in sorrow. But Asa digged a sepul- 
chre for himself ; and it is not improbable, left direc- 
tions that he should be interred after the magnificent 
manner of the Gentiles, and not after the way of the 
Jews. If so, he was not singular ; others have done 
the same to gratify their vanity, and distinguish their 
remains from vulgar earth. The same vain regard for 
posthumous display is still extant. It provides for the 



THE SELF-IDOLATER. 153 

splendid funeral and magnificent tomb; — forgetful of 
the solemn truth, that, though the body may be em- 
balmed, the soul may not be saved ; though it may be 
encased in costly work, and let down into the grave 
amid the gaze of the world, it may rise at last " to the 
resurrection of damnation !" 



154 FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 



FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 

The Bible is a book of principles : it furnishes us 
with the elements of truth, and with the motives to 
duty — so that, as rational and accountable beings, we 
may be controlled by principle, and always able to as- 
sign a reason for the sentiments we adopt, and the course 
we pursue. It recognises no religion that springs not 
from " a new heart and a right spirit," and promises 
rewards only to those whose perseverance " in every 
good word and work" unto the end, gives assurance 
that, in commencing a religious life, they were neither 
deluded in their views, precipitate in their decision, nor 
reserved in the devotement of themselves to God's ser- 
vice. 

There is a wide difference in the circumstances in 
which men are placed — in their educational advantages 
and natural temperaments, and, by consequence, in their 
besetting sins and individual temptations : still, the cri- 
teria of true religious principles are essentially the 
same. Nor does religious character in all ages and 
conditions invariably present the same phase. It is at 
one time contemplative, and then active ; here cheer- 
ful and hopeful, there melancholy and desponding ; 
here elevated by noble thoughts and generous doings, 
there contracted by ignorance and deformed by bigotry ; 



FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 155 

now revealing the mastery of the spirit over the flesh, 
and again so blending in its features with the lineaments 
of the world, that, as with the colors of the rainbow, we 
find it difficult to separate or distinguish the one from 
the other : nevertheless, all essential defects in religious 
character, as well as all instances of backsliding and 
apostasy, spring from the heart; for out of it "proceed 
evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, 
false witness, blasphemies," and out of it " are the issues 
of life." 

As " in Christ Jesus, neither circumcision availeth 
any thing, nor uncircumcision, but a new creature" so 
he alone was truly a Jew who was one, not outwardly, 
but inwardly. As all true religion is now directly trace- 
able to regeneration, so was it, under the Old-Testament 
dispensation, to "the circumcision of the heart." We 
are not called on to examine ourselves with a view to 
ascertaining whether we have conformed to the letter of 
the law, but " whether we be in the faith ;" for " with the 
heart man believeth unto righteousness." Nor are we 
cautioned against the neglect of days and ceremonies, 
but against " an evil heart of unbelief, in departing from 
the living God :" an evil heart, this constitutes the great 
obstacle in the way of becoming religious — the source 
of self-deceptions and hypocrisy — the cause of incon- 
sistencies, declensions, and apostasies. It may be re- 
tained while the mind is receiving the ideas of a religious 
education, and conforming to all ceremonial enactments 
— amid works of charity and zeal for religion, and all 
due deference to the ordinances of the church and the 
authority of her ministers. It may not preclude useful- 



156 FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 

ness and honor in the cause of the church. The world 
may never know that he who seems so devoted is not 
in sincerity and truth a believer ; he himself, through 
self-ignorance, may not suspect that his is still an evil 
heart of unbelief; nor may he be aware of it until it is 
too late : he may even carry it with him to the grave, 
and not until the day of judgment will he know that he 
had only deceived himself! All were not Israel who 
were of Israel : all are not the disciples of Christ, though 
they may " eat and drink in his presence, and do many 
wonderful works." 

The more prominent one may be in religious matters, 
the greater the danger of his being deceived by this evil 
heart; and so long as he retains his position and his 
associates, he may go on in well-doing, but a change of 
circumstances may bring about a change in the outward 
man. Were this not so, the gospel had not been so 
emphatic in its cautions to all, without distinction, against 
"the deceitfulness of sin :" and that we are not mista- 
ken in our view of that heart-religion which the New 
Testament inculcates, is evident from the record with 
which the Old Testament furnishes us, of the lives of 
men who, on the one hand, secured God's acceptance, 
and, on the other, incurred his displeasure. 

In the fancied superiority of their own intellectual 
attainments, some may consider it as nothing more than 
a record of deeds which denote an ignorant, obstinate, 
and superstitious people ; still, it is a truthful and faith- 
ful history of human nature — and hence invaluable as 
a guide in all our religious and ethical inquiries, and 
indispensable to a true knowledge of ourselves. Nor 



FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 157 

let it be thought, as infidelity has insinuated, that it is a 
monotonous record of acts void of interest to the present 
age, and of characters that differed in no essential points 
of view. Nowhere can greater variety in character be 
found, not excepting the dramatis persona of Shakspere 
himself; nor is there an individual, at the present day, 
who has not his prototype in the historical Scriptures. 
Even Shakspere was indebted to his acquaintance with 
the Scriptures, not less than to his own observations, for 
his knowledge of human nature. He will, indeed, give 
us a knowledge of the world in all its glory and in all 
its littleness, its honesty and its tricks, its loves and 
hates, its joys and sorrows, its follies and foibles ; he 
will throw a spell around our hearts, and lead us to look 
on one another, and on all the men and women in the 
world, as but players : but to the Bible must we go to 
behold ourselves as we are, and life as it is, in solemn 
earnest — something more than a dumb-show, and men 
something higher than puppets — nothing less, in fact, 
than actors in a stupendous drama, which has its issues, 
not when the drop-curtain of death falls, but when the 
trumpet sounds to summon man to judgment. 

Here, as in a mirror, may we see the part which we 
are individually acting, the interest we are to secure, 
the changes we are undergoing, and the dangers to which 
we are exposed. There are men now, who answer to 
the prophets and to the kings of old ; places and objects 
now, corresponding to the unhallowed groves and the 
accursed idols : there is, too, the murder of the heart, 
which is the counterpart to the murder of a prophet ; 

14 



158 FACTITIOUS RELIGION 1 . 

and there is a death shadowed forth by the end of a life 
which had been forfeited by sin. 

Hence the interest and importance that belong to the 
history of Joash.* He had been brought up under cir- 
cumstances most favorable to the culture of early piety ; 
and it was to be expected, from the instructions he re- 
ceived, and the example set before him, that he would 
take a deep interest in his people, and aim to promote 
their welfare by restoring the house of the Lord, and 
reviving the temple- service, which had been sadly 
neglected during the period of Athaliah's usurpation. 
Though very young, he had an intelligent appreciation 
of the great ends of his government, and brought to the 
accomplishment of his measures an energy that com- 
manded respect, and a zeal that argued triumphant suc- 
cess. His were no ordinary qualifications for the duties 
of his reign ; and the manner in which he effected his 
object, shows that he was not less sagacious and honest 
than active and influential. His was the master-spirit 
of the age, acting on lethargic minds — impatient of de- 
lay, devising new plans, stimulating curiosity, causing 
an excitement through the land, until every man was 
forward to contribute, and every workman eager to do 
his part. 

The work of repairing the temple was nobly done, 
though paid for in advance ; and the money, over and 
above what the workmen deemed a just compensation 
for their labors, was refunded, and converted into suita- 
ble vessels for the house of the Lord — an instance which 
has few parallels. Men are seldom forward to contrib- 

* 2 Chron., chap. xxiv. 



FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 159 

ute, except for their own pleasure ; and rarely think 
themselves overpaid for their services — especially those 
intrusted with the public treasure, or in any way em- 
ployed by the government. 

But thus auspicious was the beginning of his reign : 
" Joash did that which was right in the sight of the 
Lord." And who that witnessed his deeds, would not 
have concluded that he was truly a religious prince? 
How remiss and indifferent did all the priests and Le- 
vites seem in comparison with Joash ! how much more 
strenuous and zealous in his efforts to repair the temple 
than Jehoiada himself! The old counsellor was too 
tardy for the young king, and in his view merited at 
least a gentle rebuke ! — just as the youthful convert in 
our day cannot conceal his surprise at the seeming in- 
efficiency of those whose sole business it is to repair the 
waste places in Zion ! 

But Jehoiada had lived too long not to be able to 
discriminate between acerbity of temper and the impa- 
tience of an ardent temperament ; and so long as he 
lived, Joash complied with the Divine requirements, 
and all things contributed to establish his government, 
and secure the growing prosperity of his people. Nor 
is it singular that Jehoiada's influence should have been 
so great over the youthful king. He was no ordinary 
man — no less remarkable for his wisdom than his years. 
Having attained his hundred and thirtieth year, he em- 
bodied the history of six successive reigns. He could 
speak of what he had both seen and heard of the glory 
of Solomon, and of the idols of Jeroboam ; of the gra- 
cious works of Elijah, and the bloody deeds of Athaliah : 



160 FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 

yet amid all the changes and evils which had occurred 
in Judah from the days of Solomon to Joash, he had 
remained true to God. Great and good man ! amid 
such varied scenes, neither seduced by flattering prom- 
ises, nor intimidated by royal threats ; neither uplifted 
by success, nor depressed by adversity ; conniving at 
no evil, and neglecting no opportunity of doing good-^- 
at once pure in life, strong in faith, and steady in prin- 
ciple, he received from the priesthood not less than from 
the people the reverence due to exalted worth and be- 
neficent services. What is the glory of crowns com- 
pared with the lustre of such a character ? what the 
honor of warriors triumphing in successive battles over 
their fellows, compared with his, who, through a long 
century of trial, had fought the fight and kept the faith, 
and come off conqueror over the world, the flesh, and 
the devil ? Such an instance, gleaned from the dark 
records of human depravity and crime, revives our sink- 
ing spirits — tells us that there is faith on earth, and the 
sure and certain hope of God's eternal favor. All do 
not wax worse as they grow old ; alldo not change with 
circumstances — suit their policy to the times, and cringe 
and fawn to further selfish ends ; nor are all " carried 
about with every wind of doctrine." The tempest will 
scatter the leaf, and twist the sapling, and uproot the 
proud pine ; but the aged oak still stands. 

At last Jehoiada dies, and is interred, not with com- 
mon mortals, nor with departed priests, but in the sep^ 
ulchre of the kings — even there, where he who slew 
Goliath was stiff in death, and he whose glory attracted 
the queen of Sheba, was mouldering in the dust. It was 



FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 161 

the highest honor that men, in their earth-born concep- 
tions of greatness, could pay to his remains ; but among 
all the kingly great ones who there slept, of which could 
it be in truth said, that he had lived only to do good ? 
Some had done evil ; others evil as well as good ; but 
Jehoiada good alone : and while one is remembered for 
his exploits in the field, and another for the magnificence 
of his reign, and others for their idolatries and folly, his 
memory will be cherished for his singular goodness. 
The epitaph that marks his tomb in distinction from the 
rest is, "He had done good in Israel" 

For the time, none felt his loss more than Joash ; 
none shed bitterer tears, or surpassed him in honoring 
the remains of his lamented counsellor and friend. What 
had Joash been, without Jehoiada? To him was he 
indebted, under Providence, for his education, his res- 
toration to the throne of Judah, his success in repairing 
the breaches which had been made in the temple — for 
his present enviable position and cheering prospects. 
Jehoiada had sheltered the young prince from the dan- 
gers of Athaliah's rule, and prepared him to assume the 
reins of government ; and when the nation grew weary 
of the usurper, had placed the rightful crown of David's 
lineage on his youthful brows. And can Joash ever 
forget his counsels? — Forget? 

There is one who has set out in a career of dissipa- 
tion and vice ; yet so long as his father lived, he gave 
promise of a life of duty and usefulness. There is an- 
other who has surrendered his mind to false prophets, 
and is worshipping at a strange altar ; yet so long as his 
Christian teacher lived, he adhered to truth, and went 

14* 



162 



FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 



up to the courts of the Lord's house. However great 
may be the force of personal influence, it is familiar to 
observation, that when a father's head is laid in the grave, 
his children are apt to go every one his own way ; and 
so, when a minister of the gospel dies, how often does it 
happen that some among those who were wont to hang 
on his lips, depart from the ordinances of the sanctuary ! 

No sooner had Jehoiada's sun gone down in all its 
full-orbed splendor, than men who had hid their dimin- 
ished heads, came forth; and others who liked not the 
old-fashioned religion, then ventured to speak aloud 
their sentiments ; men, too, who had been envious of 
Jehoiada, then perhaps insinuated in the hearing of 
Joash that his loss was not so great as he imagined, and 
that he needed no counsellor wiser than himself — -men 
who, like all unprincipled dependents, knew how to flat- 
ter and fawn for their own ends. 

The king is in more imminent danger than if the 
Syrian hosts were hammering at his gates, or assassins 
lurking round his palace. He need not fear for his 
country, nor his life, so lo n g as he remembers Israel's 
God : his person is inviolate, his city impregnable, while 
he enjoys Heaven's favor. Has he not been taught to 
know this from his youth up? Was not Jehoiada a 
living witness of God's covenant faithfulness ? Has not 
he himself had an experience of the blessedness of God's 
service ? To whom is he indebted for all his advantages 
and honors, but to God, through the instrumentality of 
the good Jehoiada ? Already, though but a few moons 
have passed since the old man was laid in his grave, 
has Joash, who so truly bemoaned his death and honored 



FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 163 

his remains, begun to surrender his mind to influences 
adverse to the teachings and example of his venerated 
friend. 

How vain is it to conclude, from one's past character, 
that he must needs be innocent of the crime with which 
he now stands charged ! This Joash, once so zealous for 
the true God, is now just as zealous for Ashtaroth ! who 
once moved the kingdom to repair the Lord's house, 
now leaves the house of God, and calls on all to aid 
him, without delay or reserve, in building groves and 
erecting idols through the land ! 

Could nothing better have been expected of any king 
in so dark an age, and amid so rude a people? Is it 
in keeping with much that forces itself on our notice, as 
we look into the history of that period? Perhaps the 
very man who now sits in contemptuous judgment on 
the sacred record, was brought up amid the lights and 
influences of the gospel — wont to go up to the courts 
of the Lord's house, and even entered into covenant with 
the Lord ! Wherein, then, does such a man differ in 
principle from Joash, if so be that he has left the house 
of the Lord to serve the groves of sensual pleasure — 
to bow down at the altar of Philosophy falsely so called 
— or to worship the gods of mammon and ambition? 
Joash's change was owing to influences not dissimilar 
from those which now so often result in transforming the 
youth of promise into the abandoned profligate ; the 
humble, generous poor man into the proud and selfish 
rich man ; the zealous, sensitive religionist into the frigid, 
callous formalist; the kind husband and affectionate 
father into the domestic tyrant. 



164 FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 

Joash wanted a religion more in conformity with the 
notions of some of the princes of Israel. He had prob- 
ably been flattered into the idea that it would be more 
for his respectability ; for thus the " good old way" is 
not unfrequently abandoned. Some other form of reli- 
gion has the patronage of worldly greatness or of literary 
renown, or it is the religion of the gay votaries of fash- 
ion. Indeed, none are more forward than worldly reli- 
gionists to pour contempt on the " good old way ;" none 
make greater efforts to proselyte, nor rejoice more in 
the success of their seductive arts — though their victim 
has, by his apostasy, branded the memory of a pious 
father, and violated the covenant of his youth. So did 
the princes rejoice when Joash left the house of God, 
and served the groves and the idols! 

But there were men in Judah who grieved over his 
apostasy, and sighed bitterly when they reverted in soli- 
tary thought to the days of the good Jehoiada. We can 
imagine how they humbled themselves before the Lord, 
and searched their own hearts to see whether any secret 
sin of theirs had caused the Lord to withdraw his pro- 
tecting favor from their nation ; and their own lives too, 
whether they had in any way deviated from the paths 
of duty, and thereby furnished others with a plea for 
going to the greater extremes. At first they might not 
have been able to accredit all that was said of Joash. 
It was too improbable that a man so instructed, and who 
had done so good service, would in any wise sanction 
idolatry* He cannot proceed to extremities, and undo 
all that he has done. One friendly monition will lead 
him to pause. Can he but be induced to think of him 






FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 165 

whom he once so deeply reverenced, he will reproach 
himself and penitently retrace his steps. Mistaken peo- 
ple ! Joash is not a man to be influenced by motives 
which sway your conduct. Joash has no susceptibility 
to the sentiment of duty. Joash is not an apostate — 
his heart was never true to God. He is the same man 
he ever was — only in different circumstances, and with 
different advisers. All the religion he ever had was 
vested in Jehoiada ; and when he died, the king's reli- 
gion died also. 

Still, it is right to expostulate with him : fear may 
restrain, if higher motives do not influence him to re- 
pent. The time has come for God's people to speak 
out boldly, though calmly — respectfully, but with all 
faithfulness. 

It does not, however, become any one to set up his 
own judgment in religious matters as an authoritative 
rule for others. When left to the operations of their 
own minds, or to the promptings of their own hearts, 
men will differ in their conclusions. Unless there be 
some divinely authorized standard of truth and duty, we 
ourselves may be as justly obnoxious to blame for our 
views and practices as other men for theirs ; and they, 
notwithstanding the contrariety of their religious opin- 
ions from our own, may be equally worthy of the Divine 
acceptance with ourselves. In the absence of a Reve- 
lation, all men are alike in the dark as respects the great 
things pertaining to God and the soul. They may dif- 
fer in their mental and physical condition, but do not in 
their need of Devine authority for the principles of their 
religious belief. The heathen were left to the law of 



166 FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 

conscience ; and, though this had become perverted and 
obscured, they were not to be judged by any other law. 
But unto Israel God had " written the great things of 
his law." Yes ; there was the Law which had been 
delivered amid the thunders and lightnings of Sinai — 
reiterated in the hearing of successive generations — and 
still to be seen engraven on tables of stone, and en- 
shrined in the holy of holies ; which carried with it, in 
the experience of the past, blessings or curses, life or 
death, as men had either obeyed or disobeyed its pre- 
cepts ; that law which Jehoiada had revered, and which 
his son, notwithstanding the king's defection, has not 
ceased to reverence and obey. 

Zechariah stood in the same relation to that law, by 
virtue of his Divine commission, that the sworn magis- 
trate sustains to the law of the land. He could not 
stand by and see that law violated without criminating 
himself; — under such circumstances, silence would 
have been treason. Still, he did not denounce, but ex- 
postulate — did not even oppose his own opinion to the 
king's, but simply referred him to the law. By that 
law which no earthly power had enacted, nor could con- 
travene — that law which the king himself had once 
sworn to observe, and which could by no man be vio- 
lated with impunity, — the groves and the idols were 
not to be tolerated for a single moment. Most insulting 
to the Majesty of heaven and earth, they provoked his 
hot displeasure. 

Methinks I see that holy man — standing there, in the 
midst of that idolatrous throng, without fear, though 
not without emotion ; strong in the consciousness of 



FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 167 

his duty, yet almost overcome by sad thoughts which 
struggle for utterance. To him, God is the Supreme 
Reality, and God's law the Supreme Authority. In 
comparison with him, all the gods of the heathen are less 
than the small dust of the balance ; in competition with 
his statutes, all human enactments but as " the spider's 
most attenuated thread !" But the prophet is alone in his 
conceptions; — no heart there beats in unison with his. 
None could deny what he affirmed ; but none would as- 
sent. No one ventured to refute his position ; but all 
with one voice resisted what they deemed an intrusion. 
They acted toward him, as men always act who hate 
the truth, and knowingly reject it, or are convicted of 
sins which they do not mean to renounce : as the mob 
act, when confronted by the law of the land ; or Ro- 
manists, when called upon to test their creed and con- 
duct by the teachings of God's holy and authoritative 
word. As the former are wont to assail the officers of 
the civil government, or the latter, with invective and at 
times with missiles, the teachers of God's word, so did 
the apostates of Judah maltreat this holy man ; and at 
last they stoned him to death ! 

No event in history surpasses this in atrocity and 
guilt. What horror must have seized the righteous 
remnant in Judah on the intelligence of such a deed ! 
What dismay paralyzed their hearts! So good and 
gentle a spirit rudely treated — foully murdered! and 
that, too, in the court of the house of the Lord ! A 
righteous man sacrificed to the malice of the wicked ! 
A servant of God, as it were, abandoned of God to the 
fury of apostates, because he had dared to do his duty ! 



168 FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 

Such an event well nigh staggers faith, and quenches 
all holy aspirations. Why attempt to serve God, if we 
may be thus requited? Does God really love the 
righteous, and respect the interests of his cause on 
earth ? Such might have been the thoughts of those 
who had fondly hoped that Zechariah's mission to the 
king would be the means of arresting him in his idola- 
trous course. Such are wont to be our own first 
thoughts, when the Christian missionary is sacrificed to 
demon gods ; for Zechariah is only one of thousands 
who have been cruelly put to death because they were 
true to God. 

But so surely as God exists, such events could never 
have taken place without his sovereign purpose ; and if 
so, his providences are to be improved, not misinter- 
preted. Encouragement is to be derived, not from vis- 
ible success, but from the consciousness of being rightly 
employed. Duty is ours — results belong to God; and 
happy the man of God whom Death meets at the post 
of duty ! 

It seems strange, as in the case of Zechariah, that 
any servant of the Most High should be cut off in the 
midst of his usefulness — at the very moment when his 
labors could least be spared ! But this arises from the 
presumption that we are the best judges ; know when 
and where God's servant should close his work ; that 
God is dependent on certain human instrumentalities ; 
and that he ought not to remove any one on whom his 
church relies as especially fitted for usefulness. 

But why should he be subjected to such a death? 
Does it not seem that not even the best of men can rely 



FACTITIOUS RELIGION". 169 

on the Divine protection — and tend to corroborate the 
skeptical inference drawn from the fact that " one event 
happeneth to all" *? No ; the Christian himself, though 
delivered from the fear of death, can be exempt from 
none of its physical attendants. He may lie down nev- 
er to rise again, or go out never to return ; die easily 
or die in agony — in his bed or by the hand of violence. 

Nor are we at liberty even to say that such an event 
is mysterious. It is less mysterious, when all the cir- 
cumstances are taken into view, than that Stephen 
should have been also stoned to death ; still less so, 
than that God's own Son when intent on the great work 
of enliohtenins: men in the knowledge of the truth, 
should have been crucified and slain by wicked hands. 
We may not say that his bloody death was prefigured 
by that of Zechariah ; but, as it was predetermined, so 
was the prophet's death, and for purposes not the less 
wise and beneficent because they are not easily resolved. 
In the order of God's providence and grace, the one 
event might have been no less necessary than the other ; 
and in either case, the demonstration was complete that 
God's enemies were without excuse. 

It is, indeed, fearful to contemplate such an event ; 
but it is in accordance with God's dispensations toward 
his people. It is one of the laws of the kingdom of 
heaven, that no man shall " count his life dear unto 
himself;" and that he who goes forth amid the ranks 
of a rebellious world, bearing the law of his God, shall 
go with his life in his hand, to surrender it under any 
circumstances, and at any moment, as High Heaven 
lo 



170 FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 

may please. " Neither count I my life dear unto my- 
self," said the great apostle to the Gentiles, " so that I 
may finish my course with joy, and the ministry which 
I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel 
of the grace of God." 

Still less are we justified in regarding such events as 
furnishing additional evidence of mistaken plans, and 
visionary notions, and palpable indiscretion. If any 
evidence, it is too much : it reflects on the wisdom and 
faith of such men as Zechariah, and Stephen, and Paul ; 
it paralyzes Christian duty, quenches the fire of a heaven- 
born zeal, and undermines the Divine authority of the 
Scriptures. 

But however difficult it may be to reconcile such 
events with our preconceptions of the Divine adminis- 
tration, of this we may be assured : God is righteous in 
all his ways, nor will he suffer the wicked to triumph 
over any one of his servants with impunity. " Lord, 
lay not this sin to their charge," said the dying Stephen ; 
but no such prayer escaped the lips of the dying proph- 
et. Zechariah's murderers had not sinned ignorantly 
in unbelief. Apostates from the God in whose service 
they had willingly enlisted — whom but yesterday they 
swore to obey and honor — they were conscious of their 
wickedness, and only the more exasperated when re- 
minded of the claims of that law to which the prophet 
so solemnly referred. Their act was virtually a delib- 
erate blow at the existence of Jehovah himself; and 
therefore all that Zechariah said, as he gave up the ghost, 
was said, not in imprecation, but prophetically : " The 
Lord look upon it, and require it !" 



FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 171 

Had Joash been told that, as soon as Jehoiada should 
be laid in the grave, he himself would relapse into idola- 
try, he would probably have been fired with all the in- 
dignation that Hazael expressed when Elisha told him 
of the evils he would bring on the children of Israel : 
and now the blood of Zechariah cries against him — of 
that man whom he was doubly bound to protect and 
encourage, and to whose father he owed both his crown 
and his life. Zechariah, the worthy son of the good 
Jehoiada, stoned to death, and in the court of the Lord's 
house, by the order of Joash ! " Be astonished, O 
heavens, at this, and tremble, O earth !" No wonder 
the Jews looked on that act as embodying the seven 
deadly sins. Monstrous deed ! which gave forth such 
fearful signs of perfidy, and ingratitude, and inhumanity, 
and profanation, and idolatry ! It were doing violence 
to all the sentiments of our moral being to suppose that 
it could go unpunished : nor was it forgotten before 
God. It was visited on Joash and others ; visited on 
God's enemies from generation to generation : " for on 
them came all the righteous blood shed upon the earth, 
from the blood of righteous Abel unto the blood of Zach- 
arias son of Barachias," even the last of the prophets 
slain by the Jews. 

Defeat, disgrace, and death, followed hard on the 
ingratitude and apostasy of Joash. Though he had, by 
giving Hazael all the sacred treasures, induced him to 
stay hostilities, yet the Syrians afterward made a descent 
on his borders, defeated his troops, entered Jerusalem, 
and slew the princes of Judah ; and shortly after, his 
own servants revolted against him, and revenged the 



172 FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 

disgrace of the nation on the person of their king, by 
murdering Joash in his bed. 

As we look back on the reign of Joash, several things 
arrest our attention : the ardent zeal and energetic re- 
forms of the youthful king ; the noble character and 
honored death of Jehoiada ; the subsequent apostasy of 
Joash ; his murder of a holy man, and his own awful 
death — all serving to form a miniature picture of the 
world as it is : the few actuated by principle, and the 
many alike devoid of the fear of God ; the seeming 
good, and the truly religious ; profession without prin- 
ciple ending in ruinous error ; religious education per- 
verted by evil communications; the good taken away, 
and the evil living on ; the good, too, persecuted by 
the evil, and the evil finally bringing ruin upon them- 
selves — the patience and meekness of the former, the 
audacity and malice of the latter ; the good one man 
may effect, and the good one sinner may destroy ; the 
consequences of infidelity being leagued with power, 
and the recklessness and ruthlessness of a mob. 

But as we descend from a general survey to a partic- 
ular investigation of the principles of human action, it 
becomes evident that men may build temples, yet not 
be temples ; be ecclesiologists, yet not Christians ; seem 
all devotedness to the cause of religion, yet be destitute 
of the grace of God ; have only a form of godliness, and 
yet outstrip in their zeal and efforts for "repairing the 
breaches in the temple," and reforming society, those 
who possess the power ! 

Men of this class usually propose to themselves some 
model of action, derived from association with a remark- 



FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 173 

able character, or, it may be, from religious biography. 
Their fancy has been captivated, and given rise to an 
ambitious motive ; and thus they are unconsciously led 
to assume appearances, and essay great things. But 
their zeal lasts only while their Jehoiada lives, or their 
associations continue. Away from their paragon, or 
deprived of their wonted ecclesiastical excitements, they 
are no longer what they seemed to be. 

It may be very convenient, as it is quite common, to 
hang our faith on some one man ; to let him think for 
us, and pray for us, and act for us, or incite and encour- 
age us to act — to make him at once our oracle and 
rule ; but when he dies, where will be our religion ? or 
should he, at an unexpected hour, swerve from the truth, 
where will be our faith ? 

Ah ! how little criteria do external ordinances furnish 
of true religious character ! how impossible to form a 
judgment of one's future course from his present zeal 
and fidelity ! It is folly in the extreme to begin a reli- 
gious life without fixed principles. We talk of incon- 
sistencies, and backslidings, and apostasies, as if such 
things were of course, though matters of grief and shame. 
But they may all be traced to some radical defect in 
early religious character. On the other hand, we are 
wont to express surprise that men should so greatly dif- 
fer in their views on the subject of religion, and some- 
times espouse the very sentiments they once repudiated. 
But it is all owing to the fact that their early views and 
sentiments were not the result of scriptural meditation 
and solitary prayer : they were derived from without — 
and from without, in some other direction, has come a 

15* 



174 FACTITIOUS RELIGION. 

change over the spirit of their thoughts, which could 
never have taken place had they from the first, with an 
humble, teachable disposition, referred their faith and 
practice to " the law and to the testimony." 

To believe because others believe, is not faith ; to be 
influenced by others to act, is not to act from principle ; 
to neglect the law and the gospel, is to be in a position 
to embrace error or to commit crime, as circumstances 
may direct and tempt. Nevertheless, he who strays 
from the path of truth and duty, despite of the com- 
bined influences of good instructions and a good exam- 
ple, necessarily aggravates his own condemnation. 

But what a calamity when a good man dies ! Will 
his people, or will his children — those who hung on 
his lips, or aimed to do his pleasure — follow in his 
steps? Yet shall his influence not be altogether lost. 
A Zechariah will remember him, though a Joash should 
forget him : and though the son should not live to num- 
ber as many days — though he should be subjected to 
great trials, and at last to a violent death — his memory 
shall not perish, nor his burial-place be dishonored. 
There will be consolation in his death. His blood will 
cry for vengeance, as the souls under the altar are now 
crying ; while a martyr's crown will bind his temples ! 

Tell me not that there is no difference in men, and 
no reality in religion : the flatteries of the world may 
seduce a Joash, but not even the terrors of the stake 
can shake the faith of a Zechariah ! 






175 



THE LEPER'S EXTREMITY. 

The account of Naaman's cure is not less remarkable 
for the important lessons it teaches, than the various in- 
cidents it embodies. If it must be read with interest, 
it cannot be studied without profit. Perhaps no portion 
of sacred history, within the same compass, reflects so 
much light on the character and condition of fallen man, 
and on God's method of saving sinners.* 

There was one who, though invested with affluence 
and clad with honor, standing high in the state, and first 
in the confidence of his king, nevertheless was weighed 
down by the most loathsome disease. He was captain 
of the host — a great man with his master ; he was also 
a mighty man in valor; but — what a set-off to all his 
glory — he was a leper! 

Who can envy his greatness ? who would exchange 
conditions with him ? Naaman himself is most unhap- 
py : he would give up all his riches and honors for even 
the skin of the basest slave ! All those appendages of 
rank — those insignia of power, which flare on the sight 
of the giddy populace — are nothing to him : the great 
man, the mighty man, is a poor leper! 

As it was then, so is it now T : no man's worldly great- 
ness can exempt him from trials. Whatever his station 

* 2 Kinps v. 1-19. 



176 

or influence, however imposing the advantages which 
riches and power have secured to him — leading many 
a dazzled eye among the throng to covet his possessions 
and honors — there is some worm preying at the root 
of his enjoyment ; and on some account that seemingly 
favored mortal would exchange conditions with the poor- 
est and most obscure. He may be rich, but he is 
without health ; may have acquired a great name, but 
his own son has disgraced that name ; may have all 
the advantages of family and connections, but there is 
no harmony ; may have achieved great things for his 
country, but he begins to feel the instability of popular 
favor. Shall I adduce another instance?- — he may 
have gained the world ; but — he has lost his soul ! 

So true is it, that no man should be dissatisfied with 
his own condition, because his neighbor's may seem to 
be more eligible ; above all, that no one who has a good 
hope through grace, be his temporal condition ever so 
depressed, should envy the advantages of the richest 
worldling. 

There was one who could at once control the coun 
cils of a king, and the movements of an army ; yet he 
could not control his own spirit. He could command 
attendants, luxuries, and skill ; yet could not gratify the 
most earnest wish of his heart ! No one around him 
can aid him in the least: the leprosy still clings to him, 
and he is miserable. 

What is man without the grace of God ? Of what 
avail are all his efforts, unless God have mercy on him ? 
" Better is he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh 
a city ;" and mightier is he who puts his trust in God 



177 

than he who commands the resources of an empire. 
Without God, the most powerful can do no more than 
the weakest — the richest than the poorest: the beggar 
is on a level with the prince — the slave with the victor. 

There was one to whom a host looked up, and did 
obeisance ; whose favors none, it may be, were too 
proud to solicit : yet Naaman, great and honorable as 
he is, must stoop to receive a favor from a mere child — 
a poor, friendless, captive Israelite ! She has laid him 
under greater obligations than all the physicians of Syria ; 
she has given him intelligence, in comparison with which 
all his possessions and honors are nothing worth ! 

So true is it, that they from whom we expect the most, 
often do the least for us in case of our need ; that com- 
parative strangers are often of more service to us than 
those on whom we naturally rely ; that whatever ine- 
quality of conditions may obtain in society, there is be- 
tween all ranks and classes a mutual state of dependen- 
cy ; that while the poor are dependent on the rich, the 
rich are not less dependent on the poor ; that while the 
learned instruct the ignorant, the wisest philosopher may 
learn from the simple — thus teaching us to despise no 
one on account of the meanness of his condition, or the 
obscurity of his lot in life. A hint from that poo?' man 
may be of more value to us than the favor of princes, 
or the researches of science. 

Though he knew not God, yet was Naaman but an 
instrument in the hands of Providence. " By him the 
Lord had given deliverance unto Syria ;" and had it 
not been for God's so ordering events that this little 
Israelitish maid should not only be carried away captive 



178 



THE LEPERS EXTREMITY. 



into Syria, but be employed as a servant by Naaman's 
wife, he had never heard of the Samarian prophet. 

Thus is it now : that same God who raised up Na- 
aman, and afterward sent this little maid to his house, 
overrules all persons and events to the furtherance of 
his own purposes. Men may not acknowledge him ; 
but though they pride themselves on their means, it is 
he who gave them power to get wealth ; and though 
they may plume themselves on their success, it is he 
who has achieved great things by their hand ; and 
though they may deem themselves fortunate, it is he who 
communicated to them that important intelligence, or 
secured to them that unexpected but timely assistance : 
and the time will come when, if they do not acknowl- 
edge him, to adore his unmerited goodness, they will 
tremble before his justice ! God is all and in all ! — 
no one acts without him ; nothing happens without his 
ordering or permission ; and it is the part of Christian 
philosophy, as well as of humble piety, to acknowledge, 
with either thankfulness or submission, his hand in 
every event. 

Notwithstanding Naaman's superiority — though he 
stands so high as a man of valor and wisdom, the chief 
of the army, and prime-minister of state — yet his ser- 
vants know him better than he knows himself! How 
many similar instances of self-ignorance may be met 
with at the present day ! how rarely do we meet with 
one who knows himself, especially if he be placed in a 
situation that ministers to his pride and vanity ; and 
how often does it happen, that while one is flattering 
himself in his own eyes, any bystander may detect the 



the leper's extremity. 179 

ruling passion of his heart — the motives, the principles 
which, it may be unconsciously to himself, govern all 
his actions ! As nothing is harder than to know one's 
self, so nothing is easier or more common than to de- 
ceive one's self. There is no man who has not need to 
pray, with David — " Cleanse thou me from secret sins!" 

" Are not Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, 
better than all the waters of Israel?" — "So Naaman 
turned, and went away in a rage." So did the Jews, 
having expected in their Messiah a temporal prince and 
deliverer, turn away from Christ : so did the Greeks, 
through the pride of their superior wisdom, turn away 
in contempt from the doctrine which Paul preached : 
and thus does many a man now turn away from the 
message of the gospel — displeased with its authorita- 
tive plainness ; dissatisfied with its requisitions ; seeing 
no necessity for its humbling conditions — preferring the 
conclusions of his own understanding, and the efficacy 
of his own works. ' Why should I believe in Christ ? 
— do I not believe in God ? Why must I deny myself, 
and follow Jesus ? — is not morality sufficient? Why 
must I be changed by the Spirit of God ? — are not my 
motives unimpeachable, and my character is it not with- 
out reproach ?' 

To desire the end without the means is characteristic 
of human nature. Tt was this desire that in ancient 
times secured to the astrologer and the alchemist so 
great an influence over the common mind : the one pro- 
fessing to impart foresight without the trouble of reflec- 
tion ; and the other riches without either economy or 



180 

toil. This animates the speculator in stocks, and sup- 
ports the vender of lottery-tickets, or of empirical nos- 
trums, while it secures success to jugglery and chicanery. 
Men would gain their point without regard to justice ; 
become rich without labor ; or be cured without medi- 
cine. Not less obvious is the same feature of our nature 
when the mind is awakened to the subject of religion. 
Who would not lay hold on eternal life ? But where is 
the man who has not detected in his consciousness a 
reluctance to comply with the conditions of the gospel ? 
As Naaman would have given to the prophet any sum 
of gold, or repeatedly washed in his own rivers — so 
would sinful men do any thing rather than bow their 
wills and sacrifice their lusts, by acceding to the gospel 
terms of salvation. They will give money, count beads, 
observe fasts and festivals, or even perform occasionally 
severe penances ; but to repent in dust and ashes — to 
sue for mercy at the hands of a sovereign and great God 

— to hope only on the ground of Christ's atoning death, 

— this strips the sinner of his pride, and lays his lofti- 
ness in the dust. 

Here, then, is the secret of that facility with which 
priestcraft replenishes its treasury, and of that success 
which too often attends the teaching of any form of false 
doctrine. If some system of belief must be embraced, 
or form of religion observed, that is naturally preferable 
which, while it serves as an opiate to conscience, tends to 
minister to the pride and lusts of the carnal heart. Here 
is the secret, not only of Deism, Socinianism, and Uni- 
versalism, but of the influence of Ritualism : "I thought, 
He will surely nome out, and stand, and strike his hand 



THE LEPER'S EXTREMITY. 181 

over the place, and recover the leper." Man, though a 
fallen being, loves to be complimented ; and, though he 
would be saved, loves to be relieved from all toil and 
trouble. Sprinkle him with " holy water" you may, 
and at last administer " extreme unction ;" but tell him 
not that " without holiness no man shall see the Lord!" 
Or assure him that " apostolic baptism" will effectfiis re- 
generation ; that to receive the " consecrated elements" 
from ghostly hands will effectually prepare him for the 
kingdom of glory — and he is at once relieved from the 
task of " working out his own salvation with fear and 
trembling" — in prayerful dependence on the grace of 
God : his sense of personal responsibility to the bar of 
Almighty God is impaired, if not extinguished. 

But however we may be imposed on by false teach- 
ers, or even deceive ourselves — if any are to be saved, 
their pride must be humbled. Naaman had never been 
cured, had he not done just what the prophet told him 
to do, and believed just what the prophet said. What 
a change has come over this man, who but yesterday 
was so enraged because Elisha did not come out to him 
with a £reat deal of ceremony, and cure him with much 
ado and parade — he who was not to be treated as a 
common man ; he who was not to be commanded ; who 
would in no respect compromise his dignity ; who must 
be humored as well as healed ! Lo ! he feels rebuked 
by a word from his servants : he listens to their modest 
suggestions ; and now, we see him wending his solitary 
way to the once-despised Jordan. He feels that his 
case is desperate, and is willing to take the prophet at 
his word. Thus did God humble him, and convince 

16 



182 

him that in the sight of Israel's God all men are on a 
level. 

It matters not what may be one's station or profes- 
sions : he may be a great man in the estimation of the 
world, renowned for his prowess or his intellect, his 
attainments or his virtues ; but if he is ever saved, he 
will hftve to take his proper place in the dust before 
God. The leprosy of his soul can be cured but in the 
same way others have been cured, not excepting the 
vicious and degraded — and that is, by the blood of 
Christ. There is salvation for man through no other 
name ; nor through this, unless we believe what he says, 
and do what he requires. Every man, then, has some- 
thing to do in order to his salvation; and this is, not 
to follow the dictates of his understanding nor the de- 
vices of his heart — not what he presumes to be neces- 
sary, or infers from his assumed premises, — but simply 
what God has said. Naaman might have washed in the 
rivers of Damascus, and fancied that his health was im- 
proved by bathing in his native streams ; but he would 
not have been cured, had he not washed himself in the 
Jordan : not that its waters were in any way more salu- 
tary than Abana and Pharpar ; but that the prophet's 
direction to him was designed as a trial of his obedience, 
and as the sign of a cure. So may one's conscience be 
relieved by adopting some religious system which suits 
his notions, or accords with his inclinations ; but he 
cannot have ''peace and joy in believing." He may 
fancy himself rrch and increased in goods ; but he is 
blind, and naked, and miserable, and in want of all 
things. He may hope to be saved ; but Christ himself 



183 

has said : " Not every one that saith to me, ' Lord, Lord,' 
shall enter into the kingdom of heaven, but he that doeth 
the will of my Father who is in heaven." 

How important, when sinners are solicitous of their 
soul's welfare, that they should be directed aright ! One 
word from Naaman's servants that accorded with his 
exasperated feelings against the prophet, or with his 
wish to be cured in his own way, and he had died a 
leper — died, too, without the knowledge of Israel's 
God ! One injudicious remark, one erroneous word, 
to that soul which has been directed unto the way of 
regeneration, and its feelings may settle down into em- 
bittered prejudice, not only against the true servant of 
Christ, but against the truth as it is in Jesus ! 

I tremble for the soul, when once the truth of God 
cuts across the path of its depraved inclinations. How 
imminent its danger, if it listen to the promptings of 
pride, or to the suggestions of an evil heart of unbelief! 
He who acts on any direction which has not a " Thus 
saith the Lord," does so at the peril of his soul! 

" God's thoughts are not as our thoughts, nor his 
ways as our ways:" God's plan of salvation is not by 
ghostly absolution and efficacious sacraments ; not by 
moral observances ; nor by ritual solemnities and bodily 
penances. 

What a mockery of the truth — what an insult to 
Christ — what an impious reflection on his atoning sac- 
rifice — are the dogmas and devices of those who would 
be " wise above what is written !" Is the gospel so im- 
perfect and obscure, that it needs to be completed and 
illustrated by the expedients of worldly wisdom, and by 



184 the leper's extremity. 

the traditions of men ? Then is it not an infallible and 
all-sufficient rule of faith and practice. We are with- 
out a guide in this moral wilderness. Woe and alas ! 
our hopes are dashed — we still grope amid the dark- 
ness of nature i 

" To the law and to the testimony : if they speak not 
according to this word, it is because there is no light 
in them." — "Go," said the prophet, " wash, and be 
clean." What can be plainer or more explicit ? But 
not less explicit is God's direction now to every inqui- 
ring sinner : " Repent, and do works meet for repent- 
ance. Believe with the heart unto righteousness." — 
* What shall I do to be saved V cried the trembling 
jailer. " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou 
shalt be saved." The same is imperative and incumbent 
on every man : not that his repentance will save him, 
nor his faith ; but these are the conditions on which God 
will save him. 

Hence, the eternal condition of sinners rests with God. 
"Am I God," said the king of Israel, on reading the 
letter in Naaman's behalf, " to kill and to make alive, 
that this man doth send unto me to recover a man 
of his leprosy?" The king could not have restored 
him, nor could Elisha, nor was there any sanative 
virtue in the waters of the Jordan. All that Naaman 
can do is to follow the prophet's instructions : whether 
he is to be cured or not depends on the good pleasure 
of the Almighty. And thus is it with the sinner : no 
matter what may be his views of the nature and seat of 
his spiritual malady ; he may change his habits of life, 
correct his irregularities, and moderate his passions ; 



185 

retire from the temptations of the world, lacerate his 
body, or perform divers painful tasks in atonement for 
sin ; but his disease has only taken deeper root. Like 
a cutaneous eruption when repelled, though it may con- 
ceal its outward appearance, it seldom fails to establish 
more firmly its internal strength — to protract and en- 
hance the danger of the disorder. No matter to whom 
he applies, or what means he employs, his case baffles 
the power of human reason, and mocks the expedients 
of ghostly craft. He cannot cure himself; no man can 
cure him ; and Nature, amid all her beneficent adapta- 
tions, furnishes no remedy for the leprosy of the soul. 
Woe be to him who, undertaking the sinner's case, does 
but u skin and film the ulcerous place ;" though worse 
for the sinner himself, if his apprehensions be quieted 
by the delusions of a false hope ! He can but aggra- 
vate his own disease, and enhance the danger of his 
case — no matter what philosophy may suggest or priest- 
craft prescribe, so long as he does not reverently and 
solicitously inquire at the oracle of God. 

Well for Naaman that there was a prophet in Sama- 
ria ; and happy for the sinner that he can now have 
access to some ambassador for Christ. But what can 
he do — even he whom God has commissioned to preach 
the gospel to dying sinners ? — no more than Elisha did 
for Naaman : " Go wash and be clean." And so may 
he say, and does say, on the authority of the inspired 
record, " Rejicnt, and believe." But whether any one 
is to be saved, rests with God — that Being against 
whose law, against whose gospel, against whose provi- 
dences, against whose grace, we have so long and so 

16* 



186 the leper's extremity. 

deeply sinned ; whose high attributes could not be im- 
peached — -whom all holy beings would still love and 
adore — -should he leave every soul of man to perish. 

If the soul is ever cleansed from its deadly pollutions, 
it will be by the effectual application of the blood of 
Christ in the washing of regeneration and the renewing 
of the Holy Ghost ; and the only ground on which any 
ambassador for Christ can look on the sinner's condi- 
tion with the least feeling of hopefulness, will arise from 
his disposition to do what God requires. It matters not 
what else he may do, what " great things," what " won- 
derful works," there is no scriptural hope for him — no 
possibility of his recovery from ruin, so long as he does 
not " repent and believe." With all his moralities and 
charities, though he may be very decided in his religious 
opinions and ecclesiastical affinities, and enjoy the rep- 
utation of serving his God after the manner of his fa- 
thers, he is still in his sins, and in danger of dying in 
his sins. 

" Lord, if thou wilt thou canst make me clean," said 
the poor leper, who, in his extremity, had been forced 
to cast himself at the feet of Jesus ; and he was cleans- 
ed. So immediate and complete was his recovery, that, 
in the fulness of his heart, he could not refrain from 
proclaiming the wonderful name of Jesus ! Thus Na- 
aman, obedient to the heavenly message, went and wash- 
ed, and " his flesh came again like unto the flesh of a 
little child, and he was clean. And he returned to the 
man of God, and said, Behold, now I know that there 
is no God in all the earth, but in Israel." 

That God's name might be exalted among the hea- 



the leper's extremity. 187 

then was one of the ends for which the Israelites were 
selected as his people, and separated from the surround- 
ing nations ; and the miraculous manner in which his 
authority was often attested, sometimes extorted a trib- 
ute of praise to his name even from the worshippers of 
idols. Thus, are God's people now spiritually distin- 
guished from the world, that the " Son may be hon- 
ored even as the Father," and often does he show forth 
his power and grace as a Saviour mighty to save, in a 
way which confounds, though it may not always con- 
vince, the unbeliever. Who must not have acknow- 
ledged the hand of God in Naaman's cure ? And who 
can refrain from acknowledging the grace of God, 
through Jesus Christ, in the conversion of sinners? 
What, short of a Divine agency, can bow man's stub- 
born will, and change his alienated heart, and raise his 
earth-born affections, and inspire him with a purifying 
hope ? To see a man so lately deformed and degraded 
by sin, now, gifted with new views of God, of himself, 
and of the world ; having, too, new loves and hates, 
new joys and sorrows, new hopes and fears, new desires 
and purposes — being, in fact, a new creature in Christ 
Jesus ! what evidence can be so conclusive that the 
gospel is the wisdom and the power of God unto salva- 
tion ! Be it so, that the wise, and the mighty, and the 
noble of this world, may regard the pure and simple 
gospel of Christ unworthy of their notice : as God ef- 
fected Naaman's cure and conversion by means of that 
very river which he scorned, so does he now accom- 
plish his gracious purposes only by means which the 
carnal mind invariably undervalues and despises. He 



188 the leper's extremity. 

" hath chosen the foolish things of the world to con- 
found the wise ; and the weak things of the world to 
confound the things which are mighty ; and the base 
things of the world, and things which are despised, 
hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to 
bring to naught things that are : that no flesh should glo- 
ry in his presence." 

Men may think that they have attained unto the 
knowledge of the true God ; but unless they have 
sought him as he is revealed in the face of Jesus Christ, 
whatever their boasted superiority of intellectual cul- 
ture, they are in darkness not less fatal than that in 
which the worshipper of Rimmon was immersed, be- 
fore his journey to the prophet of Israel. Their God 
may not have assumed an outward form ; but he is not 
less the idol of their fancy. The idea of him may be 
given to them in " the reason," or it may spring from a 
morbid sentimentalism ; or it may be 

" A sense sublime 
Of something far more deeply interfused, 
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, 
And the round ocean , and the living air ;" 

but he is not that God who " has set forth Jesus Christ 
to be a propitiation for sin through faith in his 
blood." As God was made known only to Israel, so 
is he now made known only to those to whom Christ 
reveals him. This must be admitted, or the Bible is 
practically rejected. In vain might Elisha have reason- 
ed with Naaman on the sin and folly of his idolatry. 
A man who, notwithstanding the extremity of his dis- 
ease, could hardly be prevailed on to submit to a reme- 
dial process which the pride of rank and the prejudices 






the leper's extremity. 189 

of country had led him to despise, was not to be con- 
vinced that the God whom he had worshipped from his 
youth, and whom his king and country adored, is no 
God. And what was it that impelled him at last to try 
the waters of Jordan, but his resistless, overpowering 
conviction that unless the prophet could help in that 
way, there was no help ! He was a dying leper, and 
there was but one hope left for him. And what led him 
to return to the prophet, and in the presence of that ho- 
ly man, to renounce his idols, and dedicate himself to 
God, and swear that " henceforth he would offer nei- 
ther burnt-offering nor sacrifice unto other gods," but 
his wonderful experience of the power and grace of Is- 
rael's God. This will not be denied ; yet is it equally 
certain — and the experience of all true Christians bears 
witness to the fact — that, not until a man has been 
brought to see " the exceeding sinfulness of sin," to 
feel his guilt and his danger as a sinner against God, 
will he flee for refuge to the hope that is set before him 
in the gospel ; and that when he is thus brought from 
nature's darkness into the marvellous light of the gos- 
pel, the conviction of his heart is, there is no God in 
all the earth save in Christ! — no pardon, no purity, no 
peace, no hope, no salvation, for the sinner, but in and 
through Christ. He needs not now any arguments to 
convince him of the truth of Christianity, but, simply, 
language to express his convictions. All documentary 
proofs of the gospel were superfluous ; he has the wit- 
ness in himself — in his own experience ; for " God hath 
shined into his heart, to give the light of the knowledge 
of the glory of himself in the face of Jesus Christ." 



190 the leper's extremity. 

Hence the wonder of every truly converted man that he 
should have been so reluctant to go to Christ ; so perti- 
nacious in his refusal of offered mercy ; so presumptu- 
ous in his views of God ; and so foolishly intent on 
some merely conscience-quieting mode of saving him- 
self! Hence his pity for those who are still strangers to 
the grace of God, and unwilling to accept the terms of 
God's salvation ; his aversion to every wretched and ru- 
inous substitute for the glorious gospel of the grace of 
God ; his unreserved and conscientious devotion to the 
honor of the " only name under heaven given among 
men, whereby we must be saved." 

This, indeed, is one of the earliest and most conclu- 
sive evidences of having been brought to the saving 
knowledge of God — a disposition to honor him in the 
way of his appointment, and by an observance of his 
ordinances. Hence, Naaman asked permission to carry 
back with him to his own country two mules' burden 
of earth from the land of Israel, that he might raise 
with it in Syria an altar to Jehovah. What a revolu- 
tion must have taken place in his views and feelings be- 
fore he could have thought of transporting a little earth 
to that country of which he had been so proud ; much 
less deigned to ask such a boon ! But it is not greater 
than the change which every one undergoes who be- 
comes a Christian. There is no miracle so great as 
that of a sinner's conversion to the faith of the gospel! 

Hence, also, Naaman asked pardon, if at any time he 
should bow himself in the house of Rimmon. Strange 
that the import of this request should have been so per- 
verted — as though the Syrian convert who had just 



THE LEPER'S EXTREMITY. 191 

avouched Jehovah to be his God, and declared his fixed 
and solemn purpose to worship Jehovah alone, could 
immediately after solicit leave to worship an idol ! or as 
though the prophet who had been so unceremonious and 
decided with the leper, could now, through fear of giv- 
ing offence to the nobleman, grant him permission to 
dishonor the Most High ! The request, in fact, was 
not less indicative of Naaman's conscientiousness, than 
the reply to it of Elisha's sound judgment. As the office 
which the Syrian held in his own country required that 
he should attend the king when he frequented the tem- 
ple of Rimmon, he could not avoid bending forward 
when the Icing leaned upon him; and therefore he in- 
quired whether, under the circumstances, such an act, 
in reality an act of accommodation to his master, could 
be construed into a participation of the crime of idola- 
try. The fact of his having made such an inquiry, proves 
that his conscience was no longer a defiled and evil 
conscience ; that having been truly enlightened, it had 
become most sensitive, and that whatever the prophet's 
judgment might have been, he would have deferred to 
it, even if it had been necessary to resign his office ; and 
that Elisha told him to go in peace, simply meant that 
he might discharge the duties of his office, and yet pre- 
serve a clear conscience. He could not have said oth- 
erwise, after Naaman had declared that henceforth he 
would sacrifice unto none but Jehovah, unless he had 
wished to proselyte him to the Mosaic religion, and this 
he was under no legal obligation to do. On the con- 
trary, though the Israelites were at liberty to receive 
proselytes with certain restrictions as to their genealogy, 



192 

provided they offered themselves in sincerity — yet from 
the first they were kept as much as possible apart from 
the rest of mankind, in order that the line of the Mes- 
siah's descent might be well defined, and God's dealings 
with mankind liable to no misconstruction. The proph- 
et's reply shows that he was neither unacquainted with 
the great object of the Mosaic polity, nor influenced by 
any bigoted and sectarian views. There was hope for 
the Syrian, though he returned to his own country ; and 
he might there hold and exemplify his faith in the true 
God, even though he did not conform to the ceremonial 
enactments of Moses. He might continue to serve his 
king, yet be true to God; might discharge the several 
offices which his station imposed on him, yet connive 
at neither idolatry nor hypocrisy. By attending the 
king, he would not shock his prejudices, nor incur his 
displeasure ; and thus might be made the instrument of 
ultimately leading him to sacrifice with himself at the 
altar of Jehovah. In short, the commission of idolatry 
could not have occurred to either Naaman or Elisha ; 
otherwise the former would have convicted himself of 
insincerity in declaring his faith in God, and the latter of 
faithlessness to his solemn trust. The fact that Naaman 
was not without his apprehensions that it might not be 
lawful, under any circumstances, to adopt a posture simi- 
lar to that which the king employed as a sign of rever- 
ence to his idol, bespoke the great moral change which 
he had experienced, and the true state of his mind tow- 
ard God and duty. It cannot, therefore, be used as a 
precedent, much less furnish an apology, for sinful 
connivances. 






the leper's extremity. 193 

What fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteous- 
ness ? What agreement hath God with idols, or what 
concord hath Christ with Belial ? Such are the ques- 
tions which Christianity proposes to every one who has 
been brought to the knowledge and belief of Him who 
" was holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners ;" 
and who died to redeem and to " purify unto himself a pe- 
culiar people zealous of good works." Under the supe- 
rior light of the Christian dispensation, " whatsoever is 
not of faith" — performed without a full persuasion of its 
lawfulness — " is sin ;" and even what is " lawful" may 
not always be " expedient." Hence, the Christian con- 
vert, aware of the deceitfulness of sin, scrutinizes his 
motives, as well as guards his actions ; and since our 
judgment is liable to be warped by custom and interest 
— by a desire to please men, or even to gratify self un- 
der the plea of serving God — aims to weigh every 
question in relation to truth and duty in the balance of 
the sanctuary. Unless he " adorns the doctrine of 
God his Saviour in all things," and herein exercises 
himself that he may " always have a conscience void of 
offence," his acknowledgment of Christ as Lord has no 
connection with " a new heart and a right spirit." Man 
may call him "Lord, Lord," and bow the head to no 
other name ; but unless he desires to know and do the 
will of God — hates sin, and fears to sin, and aims to 
purify himself even as Christ is pure — he is without the 
primary and essential evidence of being a new creature 
in Christ Jesus. He whose soul has been cleansed from 
the guilt of sin, will watch and pray that he may b^ 
delivered from its power. 

17 



194 THE UNPRINCIPLED SERVANT. 



THE UNPRINCIPLED SERVANT. 

It is singular, that, while Naaman's servants appear 
to have been good, Elisha's servant should, notwith- 
standing his superior advantages for knowing and doing 
what is right, have been devoid of generous sympathy 
and moral principle : yet it is not so remarkable as that 
Josiah should have had such a son as Jehoiakim, or 
Christ a Judas among his disciples. But even such 
instances find their parallels at the present day. We 
cannot prejudge with accuracy as to one's character and 
course through life, from the instruction which he re- 
ceives, or the example he enjoys. We know, from 
observation, that while the son of an infidel may become 
religious, the son of a Christian may be skeptical ; that 
while a Romanist may be a good servant, a protestant 
may be a bad one ; that a heathen will be true to his 
word, when a man of superior moral illumination will 
betray his trust. 

It does not follow, however, that one religious system 
is as good as another ; that examples exert no influence ; 
or that natural conscience and common sense — as David 
Hume was wont to insinuate — constitute a better secu- 
rity against vice and crime than the restraints which re- 
ligion imposes. It proves rather that a little light is far 
better than the greatest advantages when neglected ; that 



THE UNPRINCIPLED SERVANT. 195 

men may be good, notwithstanding a defective educa- 
tion and imperfect example — and bad, though the influ- 
ence of both precept and example may have been brought 
to bear on their minds ; that he who breaks through the 
restraints of a virtuous education, or withstands the mo- 
tives which a knowledge of Divine truth presents, must 
necessarily be worse than he who has been brought up 
under the influence of worldly morality, and in all things 
aims to secure success in life. 

It might be supposed that Gehazi would have re- 
spected his master's disinterestedness :* such instances 
of gratuitous service must have been then, as they are 
now, singularly rare ; while they seldom fail to elicit 
general applause. No act wins to itself such hearty 
approbation as an act of disinterested benevolence ; yet 
none is so seldom imitated. In the estimation of Ge- 
hazi, the prophet was doubtless a very good man ; but 
then he was a weak man, if not a fool : ' He needs not 
have demanded a fee before giving his counsel, but he 
should not have rejected a fair expression of Naaman's 
gratitude. It was uncourteous ; and, besides, it was as 
easy for one in Naaman's circumstances to part with a 
few talents as to express his thanks.' 

Such are the thoughts w T hich often serve to restore 
selfishness to the complacent consciousness of its own 
superior wisdom, when it has been constrained to render 
a tribute to benevolence ; such the not unfrequent judg- 
ment of the world in relation to Christian self-denial. 
To forego temporal advantages for the sake of adhe- 
rence to moral principle ; to refuse a pecuniary compen 
* 2 Kings v. 20-27. 



196 THE UNPRINCIPLED SERVANT. 

sation when so great a benefit has been conferred ; or 
be generous toward those who are abundantly able to 
recompense a meritorious service — is, in the view of 
many, an indication, if not of imbecile sensitiveness, at 
least of ruinous improvidence. To act with a reference 
to duty, having an eye single to God's glory and man's 
good, is what minds of a certain class do not understand 
— with which they have no sympathy — though they 
may laud benevolence, and despise selfishness ! So re- 
luctant to condemn itself, and so deceitful, is the human 
heart. 

Yet may any one ascertain his own ruling passion, 
who will but candidly ask himself how he would have 
acted under the circumstances in which another was 
placed. It is in this way — by proposing a suppositive 
case — that guilt has often been detected; and the rea- 
son is, that however easy it may be to refrain from the 
actual commission of wrong, or to deny a charge, it is 
not possible to preclude the suggestions of either covet- 
ousness, ambition, or sensuality. From the recesses of 
one's reflective solitude, nature will speak. The world 
knows not what is going on there ; but the man himself 
cannot be deaf to the language of his own voiceless 
thoughts, nor insensible to the promptings of his own 
selfish desires. He would have taken the gift ; he would 
have seized that opportunity of filling his coffers — of 
establishing his fame — of gratifying his lust of pleasure, 
or his pride of revenge. In the mirror of his own heart 
he sees himself to be actuated by passions which, if 
known to others, would stamp his character with the 



THE UNPRINCIPLED SERVANT. 197 

brand of selfishness — be it tbe ruling love of money, of 
fame, or of sensual indulgence. 

It might be thought, moreover, that Gehazi would at 
least have had such respect for his master's honor as not 
to shake that high opinion of the prophet's goodness 
with which Naaman had departed. By soliciting the 
talents, he might not only place his master seemingly in 
an equivocal attitude, but give occasion for Naaman to 
doubt whether the religion of an Israelite was, in fact, 
purer than that of a Syrian — thus tending to seduce 
him from the worship which he had so recently em- 
braced. But what was all this to one whose heart was 
set on gain ? And what is the honor of religion, or the 
welfare of souls, to one who has surrendered his heart 
to mammon ? Even now there may be found those who 
care not how much they impede the cause of Christ, or 
what reproach they bring on his name, so long as they 
can subserve their mercenary purposes. 

This servant, under the plea of providing for two 
young men of the sons of the prophets, could serve 
himself — having no concern for them, except so far as an 
allusion to their circumstances might elicit sympathy, 
and secure the coveted treasure. This is one of the 
expedients to which covetousness not unfrequently re- 
sorts to accomplish its ends. What are pious frauds — 
all pathetic appeals to fictitious cases of poverty and dis- 
tress, of widowhood and woe, either to raise money or 
to lower just demands — all violations of truth, either 
that the sympathies of the benevolent may be enlisted, 
or that good may result to others — but so many in- 
stances of the fraud which Gehazi practised on Naaman ? 

17* 



198 THE UNPRINCIPLED SERVANT. 

His sphere of observation must be very circumscribed 
who knows not that covetousness often gratifies itself 
under the plea of doing good ; or seeks its own, while 
professing to give to others an opportunity of minister- 
ing to the wants of the deserving, or of contributing to 
some worthy object. 

At a time when Gehazi should have been especially 
true to the interests of the prophet — when the gracious 
miracle which had been wrought should have led him, 
not only to respect his master, but to fear and worship 
God, and to do all in his power to influence the servants 
of Naaman to espouse the same faith with their master, 
— he had but one thought, one desire, and that was — 
money ! 

But all times are alike to the covetous — times of 
trial as well as of prosperity ; times of revival, as well as 
of declension, in religion ; and the Sabbath, as if it were 
a secular day ! When men should be mourning over 
their sins, or embracing their opportunities of doing 
good ; when they cannot be blind to the wonders God 
has wrought in turning sinners from the error of their 
ways ; and when it behooves them to be most circum- 
spect and prayerful — then are they intent on their self- 
ish gains ! Amid all scenes, whether of mercy or of 
judgment, all they think of, or care for, is their pecu- 
niary interests ! It is no time to get gain, when we 
cannot seek it without showing an utter disregard for 
God's glory and man's spiritual good. 

He who surrenders his heart to covetous desires, at 
once jeopards his integrity. He may not intend to vio- 
late any known principle of right ; but as riches become 



THE UNPRINCIPLED SERVANT. 199 

more an object of desire, just in that proportion will 
there ensue a disregard for the means which may be 
employed. Any selfish passion may lead to the adop- 
tion of exceptionable means, but this is the especial 
tendency of avarice : the mind seemingly loses sight of 
moral distinctions, and all regard for the rights of others, 
in its desire to secure its end. The power of conscience 
must indeed be paralyzed, before any heinous offence 
can be deliberately committed in order to selfish acqui- 
sition ; but as avaricious desires are opposed by the 
principles of honesty, these principles are always liable 
to evasion through the deceitfulness of sin. If there be 
too much conscience to admit of a direct falsehood, self- 
ishness will contrive to sanction equivocation, artifice, 
and deceit. Hence the sinister reserve, or tempting 
insinuation ; the advantage often taken of ignorance, of 
necessity, and of prevailing humor ; the exaggerated 
representation, or the undue depreciation : all the phases 
of petty cheating, and the numberless tricks of trade. 
No man can be supremely avaricious, and at the same 
time morally upright. Tried at the bar of a commer- 
cial exchange, he might be acquitted ; but weighed in 
the balances of the sanctuary, he would be found want- 
ing. If the desire for riches be not controlled by prin- 
ciple, principle will be subordinate to avarice. 

It is folly, however, to commit sin in hope of secrecy. 
Nothing is more common than to presume on the con- 
cealment of a guilty deed. Were it not for the hope 
of eluding detection, even they who have no fear of God 
before their eyes would shrink from crime. But God 
has so arranged the present constitution of things, that a 



200 THE UNPRINCIPLED SERVANT. 

man's sin will sooner or later find him out. No matter 
what his subterfuges — as surely as he is regardless of 
truth or justice, so surely will something happen to ex- 
cite suspicion, and thus to destroy confidence in his 
character. However cautiously he may have proceeded, 
with whatever adroitness his dishonest plans have been 
executed, he has perhaps outwitted himself; or while 
intently on his guard, some form of remark or sudden 
change of countenance has served to disclose the guilty 
secret. Thus it is that fraud seldom escapes detection ; 
and that he who has been guilty of a dishonest act, can 
never reinstate himself in public estimation, though chi- 
canery may have extricated him from the grasp of the 
law. 

It needs no prophet's eye to detect the man who has 
dared to violate any of the moral laws of his being. 
Either circumstances so conspire against him as to pre- 
clude the presumption of his innocence, or he is be- 
trayed by his own conscience. Doubtless Elisha, in so 
readily penetrating the secret of his guilty servant, was 
aided by the Omniscient eye ; and so were the apostles 
in the case of Ananias and Sapphira : but why have such 
instances of the supernatural detection of guilt been re- 
corded, if not to convince us that, though there are no 
inspired men now, the God of the prophets and apostles 
still lives and reigns — the Supreme moral governor of 
the universe ! — taking cognizance of every soul of man ; 
noting their every thought, and purpose, and act, whether 
known and punishable in this world or not? Yes; go 
where we may — do what we may — we cannot go ivhere 
God is not, nor do what God sees not. 



THE UNPRINCIPLED SERVANT. 201 

Naaman had no knowledge of Gehazi's character, but 
the prophet knew him better than he knew himself. 
With what surprising accuracy did he penetrate his 
designs ! What did this man care for the sons of the 
prophets V what to him was the cause of truth, or the 
honor of God ? Long had he coveted money for selfish 
purposes ; and now he is felicitating himself on having 
procured the means of his release from all menial ser- 
vices. A few days more, and he will be looked up to 
as the proprietor of vineyards and flocks ! Instead of 
any longer serving, he himself will be waited upon — 
the servant forgotten in the possessor of an estate ! 

So thought Gehazi ; and thus has many a man been 
tempted to defraud. A growing reluctance to labor ; 
dissatisfaction with small gains ; a feverish desire to leave 
one's employers — to do business on one's own account, 
or to procure a splendid residence ; to revel in luxury, 
and affect display : these are the feelings which have 
led so many astray from the paths of an honest liveli- 
hood. In feelings such as these we may detect the 
cause of almost every act of fraud among youth who 
have been necessitated to labor for subsistence. 

But covetousness defeats its own end. To gain at 
the expense of truth and honesty, is to sacrifice ail that 
renders life desirable : it is to blight one's prospects of 
earthly good ; to involve others, it may be, as well as 
ourselves, in disgrace and ruin ! " The leprosy, there- 
fore, of Xaaman," said the prophet to Gehazi, " shall 
cleave unto thee and to thy seed forever!" Fearful 
sentence ! but no sooner uttered than executed ; for he 
went out from his presence a leper ns white as snow. 



202 THE UNPRINCIPLED SERVANT. 

Appalling change in the aspect of one who but a few 
hours since glowed with health, and bounded over the 
plain in eager pursuit of the departed Syrian ! — but not 
so great as the change that has come over his spirit. 
What now does he think of the talents of gold procured 
at the expense of infamy and disease ? What has he done ? 
What is he, and his children too — his children's children ! 
Who can describe the anguish of his spirit ? How cheer- 
fully would he surrender his ill-gotten gains ; how readily 
link his lot with poverty and servitude forever, could 
he only be recovered from that dreadful malady ! 

Is his folly so palpable and pitiable ? Does any one 
think that he would not — no, not for the riches of Croe- 
sus — have exposed himself to the possibility of so fear- 
ful a punishment ? Let him beware, then, how he 
envies the prosperity of the foolish ! — lest, tempted by 
the prospect of securing the means of luxurious living 
for himself and his children, he be led to deviate from 
the principles of right. 

Far from being an idle story, this case of the proph- 
et's unprincipled servant is fraught with the most solemn 
lessons — lessons which, if unheeded, may be to the 
worldling a source of endless regret. Simple as this 
narrative seems, it. meets its illustration from day to day. 
" There is no peace," saith God, " to the wicked ;" 
and it requires no uncommon powers of observation to 
perceive that God has so ordered events as to preclude 
all gratification from unlawful acquisitions : " The way 
of the wicked shall not prosper." 

Many a man who aimed by unjust gains to enrich 



THE UNPRINCIPLED SERVANT. 203 

himself, has thereby both disgraced and ruined himself; 
who anticipated great possessions, has forfeited even the 
means of a common livelihood ; who pictured to himself 
houses and lands, has by one false step found himself 
immured in a dungeon ! Go to that mansion which was 
built in unrighteousness ; and tell us if, amid all its splen- 
dor and luxury, you can descry any token of happiness. 
Look at the children of that man who enriched himself 
by unlawful means for their sake, and say if their father's 
property has not proved to them a curse. Or, enter 
into that dismal prison-house : there encased, as in a 
living tomb, we see a man expiating the crimes of his 
youth. Many a long day has passed since he was shut 
in from the scenes and intercourse of this busy, bustling 
world ; and never again can he be where or what he 
was ! But what would he not give to be able to retrace 
that one stcji ? Poor man ! could he only have foreseen 
the consequences of his fraud — foreseen? He well 
knew the consequences of being detected, but he hoped 
to escape; and now — there he is, and will be — not 
only stripped of his gains, but left a prey to the undying 
vultures of remorse ! 

This, however, is only one out of innumerable in- 
stances ; and as such, they constitute facts in the moral 
government of Almighty God. Be our judgment of 
God what it may — we cannot form too elevated con- 
ceptions of his goodness and mercy — yet who can deny 
these facts, or arrest the temporal consequences of any 
one act of youthful crime ? How often are these con- 
sequences to be recognised in the poverty, and disease, 
and wretchedness, of those who yielded to temptation 



204 THE UNPRINCIPLED SERVANT. 

in the morning of their days ! — and if so, there is no 
unfounded reason for the apprehension that the condi- 
tion of the immortal may be affected by the deeds of 
the mortal. God may and does commiserate the sin- 
ner : nevertheless, he who violates the moral laws of 
his being, must suffer the penalty. To sever the con- 
nection between crime and punishment, were to change 
the moral constitution of the universe. 

Is it inconsistent with our notions of the Divine good- 
ness to suppose that solely in consequence of any deed 
done in this life, our future condition will be eternally 
irremediable ? Then, the leprosy with which Gehazi 
was judicially visited constitutes a reflection on the same 
attribute of Deity ; and not less so a thousand facts 
which may be gathered from the course of human 
events. Under certain circumstances, and before reach- 
ing a certain point, a wicked man may reform, and per- 
haps retrieve his affairs ; but they who go on in the 
ways of wickedness, though the consequences of their 
actions be long delayed, meet at last with inevitable 
destruction. 

Go, skeptic ! — contemplate the remediless effects 
which the forger, the gambler, or the debauchee, has 
brought on himself: and as you gaze with wonder and 
pity, you may discern amid his rags and infamy, or in 
his chains and remorse, some faint image of that man's 
eternal condition who prostituted his powers and squan- 
dered life in the pursuit of selfish gratifications. 

Or, is it said that eternal punishment is dispropor- 
tionate to the sins of a short life ? So might it have 
been thought that the transfer of Naarnan's disease to 



THE UNPRINCIPLED SERVANT. 205 

Gehazi was severer punishment than he deserved ; but, 
whatever might have been the thoughts of men respect- 
ing the case, the leprosy clung to him and to his seed 
forever ; nor does the record of natural punishments 
fail to furnish many a parallel to this remarkable case. 
Simply for having gratified his appetite, the drunkard is 
punished with the loss of health and happiness, of prop- 
erty and character. Through the revels of one brief 
night, the debauchee has brought on himself incurable 
disease and indelible infamy ; while the robber, though 
only a few dollars may have been taken from their 
rightful owner, is doomed by the constitution of society 
to imprisonment for years. Is it hard that one must 
forego so much for a single crime, or for some selfish 
gratification ? But our feelings cannot obstruct the nat- 
ural course of justice ; nor can it be denied, that natu- 
ral punishments are often greater than the selfish advan- 
tages or guilty pleasures from which they flow ; and 
even the skeptic must acknowledge, in reference to na- 
ture's God — as we reverently say of the God of the 
Bible — "his thoughts are not as our thoughts, nor his 
ways as our ways." Sometimes mere want of atten- 
tion, inadvertence, or thoughtless neglect, is followed 
by the most serious consequences — consequences as 
fatal as may result from any flagrant violation of the laws 
of God ; and with this startling fact before us, who is so 
irrational as not to fear that eternal punishment may 
naturally follow even the few sins of a short life ? 

Surely as Gehazi went out from the presence of the 
man of God " a leper white as snow" so surely shall 
" the rich man fade away in his ways :" so surely, the 

18 



206 THE UNPRINCIPLED SERVANT. 

covetous man shall not inherit the kingdom of heaven. 
Though he may not have violated the principles of truth 
and justice, his heart, as Gehazi's, is set on mammon. 
He has consequently perverted the end of his being, 
and come short of the glory of God ; for he has loved 
gold more than his Maker — worshipped gold more than 
Jehovah, and he must abide the issue. He did not 
seek first the kingdom of God. What to him were its 
treasures of righteousness ? He was satisfied with the 
world as his portion, and he can have no other. He 
loved the world, and he must perish with the world. 
Having bartered his soul for money, he can reasonably 
expect no mercy — he will receive none ! Let him flat- 
ter himself in his own eyes as he may, and affect to 
look down on those who would rather forego every 
thing than give up the testimony of a good conscience, 
or deny Christ, — though all things may seem to favor 
his course ; yet " as the Lord liveth," that man " is re- 
served to the day of destruction"— he will " be brought 
forth to the day of wrath." 

Who that looked on Gehazi, covered as he was with 
so frightful a disease, must not have been deterred from 
unlawful gains — contented even in the midst of his 
poverty ? And where is the man who can steadily con- 
template the end of the wicked, as made known to us 
through the sacred oracles, without being convinced, 
that " contentment with godliness is great gain !" — and, 
as he himself has in all things sinned and come short of 
the glory of God, without being urged to flee for ref 
uge to that blessed hope which is set before the sinner 
in the gospel of the grace of God. 



THE SKEPTIC. 207 



THE SKEPTIC. 

Not long after the events to which the preceding 
section refers, the king of Syria renewed hostilities 
against the king of Israel ; but his predatory incursions 
and repeated ambuscades were to no purpose. Jehoram 
was invariably forewarned of the designs of the Syrians, 
and as often extricated from the dangers to which he 
was exposed. At last they began to suspect who it was 
that apprised the king of Israel of their schemes to en- 
trap him. How they heard of Elisha, we have no means 
of ascertaining. It is not improbable that Naaman, on 
his return to the court of Syria, spread his fame ; and 
thence they might have concluded that a man who 
wrought such a wonderful cure, could easily reveal the 
greatest secrets. Actuated perhaps by curiosity, not 
less than by animosity toward the prophet who had baf- 
fled their aims to seize the person of Jehoram, they 
accordingly determined to surprise Elisha at Dothan ; 
but being warned, by the Spirit of God, of their inten- 
tions, instead of falling into the hands jof the Syrians, he 
smote them with blindness, and led them even to the 
gates of Samaria. With the greatest ease all might then 
have been put to the sword ; and had it not been for 
the interference of the prophet, Jehoram would have 
inflicted summary vengeance on his captive enemies. 



208 THE SKEPTIC. 

They were, however, liberally supplied with food and 
drink, and sent back to their own country. Remarka- 
ble as was such an act of generosity, it had no effect on 
Benhadad but to increase his rancorous feelings, and 
inspire him with a renewed determination to conquer 
Israel. Jehoram could not cope with his formidable 
army. He was driven from the field, and constrained 
to shut himself within the walls of Samaria. For months 
the city was subjected to a close siege, and at last re- 
duced to the extremity of famine. So great was the 
scarcity, that both avarice and natural affection yielded 
to the cravings of hunger. No sum was too large for 
the vilest morsel ; while even mothers began to prey on 
their offspring. x\n affecting instance is related : on a 
certain day, a mother appealed to the justice of the king, 
against her neighbor, on the ground that after her child 
had been eaten between them, her neighbor now refused 
to slaughter hers, though she had solemnly engaged to 
do so in turn ! 

Under such circumstances, what could be said or 
done? Threatened with the sword from without, and 
unable to resist the ravages of famine within the walls 
of the city, the king, in his despair, forgot his obliga- 
tions to Elisha ; and, fancying that he was the cause of 
all the public distress, determined to put him to death. 
It was indeed a preposterous supposition, but not more 
so than that the pagan emperors should have ascribed 
any calamity that befell the Roman empire to the wrath 
of the gods against the Christians ; that Nero should 
have imputed to them the conflagration of Rome ; or 
that men should often attempt to resolve all national 



THE SKEPTIC. 209 

judgments into natural causes. It is now, however, as 
it was of old, more common to assign any reason for 
such occurrences than to admit the right one. Man 
would unjustly criminate others rather than acknowledge 
his own offences ; condemn the good, than admit that 
he himself is the sinner ; proceed to execute an unrigh- 
teous sentence, sooner than bemoan his own sins. 

It is the order of Providence that rash judgments 
shall be in due time rebuked and reversed. No man 
ever gave an order, or took a step, under the influence 
of passion, which he did not afterward see cause to re- 
gret. Elisha foresaw that the king would repent of his 
rash order the moment he was left to his own reflec- 
tions ; and that he would shortly even come in person 
to stay the execution of his own sentence : and accord- 
ingly no sooner had the messenger of death been de- 
tained at the door of the prophet's house by the elders 
of Samaria, than the king arrived. But his joy on find- 
ing the prophet still alive, quickly gave place to an 
ebullition of passion against the prophet's God : ' Of 
what use to attempt to serve a Being who exposed him 
and his people to such distresses? Elisha might do as 
he pleased ; but, for himself, he would no longer strive 
to live in obedience to God's law r s.' 

We are shocked by such impiety ; but the sentiment 
which he passionately avowed is now often felt, though 
it may be seldom expressed. The earth-bound mind 
is forward to judge of the value of religion, solely 
from its relation to our present well-being ; and losing 
sight of all spiritual interests, in its desire to compass 
worldly ends, is apt to conclude that God's service 

18* 



210 THE SKEPTIC. 

must be alike profitless and irksome. Even they who 
have been brought to the " knowledge of God," are 
slow to realize that he has a right to do with them as 
seemeth unto him best ; that the present is a state of 
moral trial and discipline; that their reward is not in 
those things which the earthly mind covets ; and that 
by the greatest afflictions he may only design their 
greater good. Thus, the ill success of a righteous man 
in his temporal affairs has too often given rise to the de- 
sponding sentiment, "Verily, I have cleansed my heart 
in vain, and washed my hands in innocency !" Thus, 
too, when one who has long served God is overtaken 
by adversity, or visited by a series of afflictions, he may 
detect in himself a feeling that, if embodied in language, 
would be equivalent to the declaration, " The Lord has 
dealt unjustly ; he has rewarded me evil and not good." 
In some instances the result of the trial proves that, not- 
withstanding the man's professions, and seemingly good 
works for years, he is devoid of true faith in God. 
With the continuance of his worldly difficulties, he 
loses his interest in religion ; and becoming estranged 
from God's service, gives himself to the world with 
desperate eagerness of aim; — as if he would make 
amends for time that had been worse than wasted ; or 
revenge himself on those who still serve God ! 

As an impulsive son, when reduced to an extremity 
through his own indiscretions, has threatened to dis- 
grace himself, unless his father will replenish his ex- 
hausted means of selfish gratification ; so the king might 
have thought, that by threatening to forsake Israel's 
God for the gods of Syria, the prophet would work a 



THE SKEPTIC. 211 

miracle for his relief; but, though nothing could have 
grieved that holy man more than such an act on the part 
of him whose life he had repeatedly preserved ; though 
the public distress had undoubtedly affected his own 
mind as deeply as the king's ; yet he could not act but 
as God directed, nor speak but as the Spirit dictated. 
Man must wait God's pleasure ; and God, in his own 
time, and in his own way, will vindicate the glory of his 
sovereign rule. 

'Be not rash, O king! have but patience a little 
while, and the scarcity of which you now complain, 
will be converted into abundance ;' for " thus saith the 
Lord, To-morrow, about this time, shall a measure of 
fine flour be sold for a shekel, and two measures of bar- 
ley for a shekel, in the gate of Samaria." Who, unless 
inspired of Heaven, would have made such an announce- 
ment— especially when his life was in imminent jeop- 
ardy ? What ! to-morrow *? within twenty-four hours, 
shall so great plenty succeed this appalling scarcity? 
It did indeed seem like trifling with the king's creduli- 
ty, and mocking the people's misery. We should not 
be surprised, if all the people, who heard the prophet 
speak thus, had looked upon him, if not as a cunning 
man whose object was to put off the king, at least as 
a visionary — so impossible did it seem that any relief 
could be extended to the city. 

How the king received this assurance we are not 
told; but one of the bystanders went so far as to ex- 
press his skepticism in the most daring terms : " Be- 
hold, if the Lord would make windows in heaven, 
might this thing be?" This was a certain lord, on 



212 THE SKEPTIC. 

whose hand the king leaned ; but though he was high 
in authority, and his skeptical reply might have met a 
response from all who heard it, Elisha, so far from at- 
tempting to reason with him, or to explain to him the 
grounds on which he believed that relief would be af- 
forded, abruptly addressed him in the ominous language 
of prophetic announcement : " Behold, thou shalt see 
it with thine eyes, but shalt not eat thereof."* Thus 
they parted: each one to await the issue. The one 
calmly confident that his prediction will be verified ; the 
other not the less persuaded, in his own mind, that there 
can be no relief for the city ; but neither able to do any 
thing to thwart the other. 

It all rests with God — with Him in " whose hand is 
the heart of kings," and who " doeth according to his 
will in the army of heaven, and among the inhabitants 
of the earth." It was he who made this announcement 
of returning plenty to the king, by the lips of Elisha ; 
and shall his servant be put to shame ? Shall the wick- 
ed have occasion to triumph over a prophet of the 
Lord? Man does not see how such an event can be 
brought about ; but God knows how to bring it to pass. 
With more ease than man can turn his hand, does God 
accomplish his purposes, whether of mercy or of ven- 
geance. Every element yields to his control ; every 
creature, from an angel to an insect, is subject to his au- 
thority. He speaks, and it is done ; he commands, and 
it stands fast. With such a being for his enemy, what 
can man do, though millions call him king, and nations 
throng his standard ? With such a friend, what may 
* 2 Kings, chap. vii. 



THE SKEPTIC. 213 

not the feeblest, most neglected, most oppressed, among 
the sons of men, expect and hope for? Who can elude 
his grasp, or withstand his anger? — who separate us 
from his love, or frustrate the purposes of his grace? 

Another sad day has passed over Samaria ; and the 
night has again set in, lo afford relief for a iexv fitful 
hours from the gnawings of hunger and the sights of 
ghastly woe. The hush of midnight is over the city : 
no sound heard, save here and there the low moan of 
famishing poverty, or the feeble utterance of a prayer 
for help to the God of Jacob. What if the cry of the 
Syrians should be borne on the wind ? Who among 
the startled sleepers could man the walls ; or would not 
rather fall before the enemy, than live to eke another 
day of want and misery ? But while the Samaritans 
sleep on, the Syrians wake ! Strange noises fill their 
ears — growing louder and more distinct, like the noise 
of chariots and the noise of horsemen — even the noise 
of a great host. Consternation spread from rank to 
rank of Benhadad's army; and, not being able to ac- 
count for the noise, except on the supposition that the 
king of Israel had been joined by the kings of the Hit- 
tites and of the Egyptians, and were fast approaching, 
they resolved forthwith to raise the siege : and so pre- 
cipitate was their retreat, they left behind them " their 
tents, and their horses, and their asses, even the camp, 
as it was." 

In what way such noises were produced, or whether 
some sudden alarm caused them to imagine the sounds 
of an approaching army, we cannot decide. Who but 
God could have devised and effected such a plan for 



214 THE SKEPTIC. 

the dispersion of Israel's enemies ? — even that God who 
overwhelmed Pharaoh and his host in the Red Sea ; 
who, in one brief night, smote with death a hundred 
fourscore and five thousand of Sennacherib's army ; who 
defeated Nebuchadnezzar's malice toward Daniel ; and 
who caused over against the candlestick, on the plaster 
of the wall of Belshazzar's palace, the finger as of a 
man's hand writing! Well might David exclaim — 
" Thou, even thou, art to be feared!" — " There were 
they in great fear where no fear was ;" and in like man- 
ner He can distract us with terrors, when no terrors are 
to be seen without. As by the breath of his nostrils he 
can sweep us from the earth, so can he send an invisi- 
ble arrow into the soul ; filling us with amazement, while 
others may be ministering to our pleasure ; wringing our 
hearts with secret anguish, while others are envying us 
our means of happiness. 

With what noiseless celerity God accomplished his 
purpose, may be inferred from the fact that the watch- 
men of Samaria had no knowledge of Benhadad's re- 
treat. It was so ordered, however, that some lepers 
should be the first to communicate the unexpected in- 
telligence. These had been thrust from the city — for 
the ceremonial part of the Levitical code was observed, 
even when the Israelites were regardless of the moral 
law ; and having lived for several days under the walls, 
they at last determined to risk the sword of the Syrians 
rather than die of hunger. But as they approached the 
Syrian lines, what was their surprise to find neither senti- 
nels nor pickets to oppose their progress ! nor was there 
a soldier nor a camp-follower to be seen, where but at 



THE SKEPTIC. 215 

the going down of yesterday's sun the thousands and 
tens of thousands of Benhadad's forces invested the city ; 
but, instead of the army, their tents, with all their horses 
and cattle, and all their treasures. The poor lepers 
were not backward to satisfy their appetites, nor even 
to appropriate to themselves some of the valuable effects, 
forgetting — like many a man at the present day, whose 
health is too precarious to admit of his ever enjoying 
the riches he is so intent on acquiring — that the golden 
vessels they were so anxious to secure could be of no 
manner of use to them. Strange, pitiable cupidity in 
persons so wretchedly diseased ! but not more so, to 
one who views things aright, than the cupidity of any 
dying sinner. " For what shall it profit a man, if he 
shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" 

Public calamity tests individual character. If one is 
supremely selfish, it will appear in his utter disregard 
for others ; and thus these lepers had no thought of the 
sufferings of their countrymen, until they had not only 
feasted to satiety, but secured as many golden vessels 
as they could with safety. Then, making a virtue of 
necessity, they hastened back and reported what they 
had seen to the sentinel on the walls, who immediately 
sent word to the king. How natural that the king should 
have been suspicious of treachery ; and that, to guard 
against a surprise, he should have sent out parties to 
reconnoitre : nor was it until be had satisfactorily ascer- 
tained that the Syrians had really left their camp, that 
he permitted the inhabitants to go out after the supplies. 
Here, then, was abundance for all Samaria ; and thus 
it came to pass that " a measure of fine flour was 



216 THE SKEPTIC. 

sold for a shekel, and two measures of barley for a 
shekel." 

But where is he who sneeringly. asked, " If the Lord 
should make windows in heaven, might this thing be ?" 
Does he not feel rebuked for his skepticism ? does he 
not behold the superabundance which God has laid 
open to the people ? Yes ; but having by the king's 
order been stationed at the gate of the city, he was 
thrown down in the haste and rush of the famished 
people after the food, and thus trodden under foot until 
he died. This is repeated, and the event carefully 
compared with the prediction : the sacred writer, after 
again alluding to the occasion on which the prediction 
was uttered, seemingly taking pains to add, "And so it 
fell out unto him ; for the people trod upon him in the 
gate, and he died." 

There was an exact fulfilment ; and it could not have 
taken place, had not the prophet been divinely inspired. 
In this respect it is not unworthy of comparison with 
some of the predictions which Christ himself uttered. 
The fulfilment, for example, of Christ's prediction of 
Peter's denial, depended on so many concurring cir- 
cumstances, as to preclude all reasonable grounds for 
supposing that it was a mere casual suggestion. 

Even on the supposition that Elisha merely ventured 
the assertion, he could not have foreknown that the 
Syrians would be frightened away by imaginary noises ; 
nor that they, in raising the siege, would leave all their 
provisions behind them ; much less that the nobleman 
would be stationed at the gate of the city, or that while 
there he would be overthrown by the people as they 



THE SKEPTIC. 217 

rushed forth to pillage the deserted camp. If it were 
not to the last degree improbable that the Syrians would 
be induced at once to abandon the siege, and give up 
all their effects to the very people whom they had been 
laboring for months to reduce to such an extremity of 
suffering, that they would be glad to capitulate — it cer- 
tainly was, that he who stood so high in authority and 
honor as the king's right-hand man, would be the only 
one out of the city who should be suddenly killed, with- 
out tasting of the abundance which he had been permit- 
ted to behold. 

Men are often disappointed in their most sanguine 
expectations — sometimes fail when on the eve of suc- 
ceeding, or die at the very moment the world is about 
to reward their efforts. But this man had no expecta- 
tion of coming plenty — not if the heavens should open ! 
And that he should live only to see it, without enjoying 
it, could have been known only by Him " who knoweth 
the end from the beginning :" thus proving that God 
both inspired the prophet and destroyed the skeptic. 

There is nothing charged against this man : no breach 
of the ceremonial nor of the moral law ; no want of fealty 
to the king, nor of regard for the people. He might 
have been an upright man in all the relations of life — 
a brave soldier, an able statesman, and a lover of his 
country ; but he was an infidel. The sin which cost 
him his life was unbelief — the positive rejection of the 
truth of God's word — instigated in part by the circum- 
stances of extreme scarcity in which he, with the inhab- 
itants of Samaria, were placed ; and more particularly 
from the fact that he was unable to see in what way such 

19 



218 THE SKEPTIC. 

a prediction could be fulfilled : thus, as it were, testing the 
truth of God's word by his own understanding — meas- 
uring the attributes of the great God by his own finite 
capacities ! This seems to us to have been no less pre- 
posterous than presumptuous. What was he, that he 
should have questioned God's ability to make good the 
prophet's word "? With quite as much propriety might 
he have denied the existence of a God, because he found 
himself unable to explain the mysteries of his own being, 
or the phenomena of the universe. O vain man ! what 
knowest thou of thyself? How, then, canst thou hope 
to fathom the deep things of God ? 

Perhaps he was jealous of the prophet's influence, 
and aimed, by questioning his word, to infect the king's 
mind with some suspicion of the prophet's intention to 
escape. Or. it may be — as he was a man of rank — 
that he was simply desirous of showing his entire free- 
dom from all vulgar credulity. It is supposable, more- 
over, that he had not recognised the hand of Providence 
in the condition to which the city was reduced ; and if 
so, he would not have been forward to accredit any spe- 
cial interposition of Heaven in its behalf. It has been 
observed with w T onder, that, in times of public calamity, 
there is unwonted forgetfulness of God and duty: men 
then grow r bold in iniquity, or studiously contrive to 
shut out all serious thoughts ; nor will even the procla- 
mation of a national fast induce them to join God's peo- 
ple in supplicating his mercy. But it will be found 
that such men have been without God in their thoughts. 
By them the calamity is referred, not to God, who " for 
our sins is justly dispteased," but lo some natural cause 



THE SKEPTIC. 219 

— to the air, and it must be changed ; to the food, and 
there must be a substitute ; to imprudence and exposure, 
and these must be avoided : and relief must come by 
some sensible and appropriate means — perceived by 
human science ; not by prayer to God and hope in his 
mercy, from an invisible source, and in an inscrutable 
way ! 

But whatever thoughts might have passed through 
the nobleman's mind, we may find in our own day not 
a few parallel instances of skepticism. Inflated with 
pride, some presume to gauge God's truth by their own 
narrow views and private feelings. In their view, there 
was no necessity for a Revelation, or the doctrines of 
the Bible are inconsistent with the dictates of their un- 
derstanding. They cannot see how God could have 
created the world out of nothing ; how the world was 
formed in six days, or how death is the consequence of 
sin. It seems inexplicable to them how the Word should 
have been made flesh ; or how Christ can unite in him- 
self the attributes of Godhead with the properties of a 
man ; how he could have risen from the dead ; how it 
is that the dead will be raised, and how men will be 
hereafter judged according to their deeds done in the 
body. These, and many other things, embraced in the 
discoveries of the Bible, they cannot understand ; and 
therefore they reject, or modify and pervert, to suit their 
notions or support their theories — overlooking the fact 
that a Revelation necessarily implies truths which could 
not have been excogitated by the human mind ; nay, 
seemingly ignorant of God's infinite supremacy, and thus 
bringing down the great God to a level with his crea- 



220 THE SKEPTIC. 

tures — resolving the infinite into the finite! as though, 
in comparison with the Divine perfections, man's power 
and wisdom could be aught else than weakness and folly ! 

The nobleman's skepticism not only tended to impugn 
the prophet's veracity, but absolutely to derogate from 
God's uncreated and sovereign authority. With hardly 
less effrontery might he have contradicted the prophet, 
or challenged God to do what he himself conceived to 
be an impossibility ! 

But such is virtually the treatment which God's word 
not unfrequently encounters from skeptics. Instead of 
deferring to its authoritative teachings, they are rather 
forward to ask, ' How can these things be V or, instead 
of taking the pains to inquire, they at once prejudge and 
condemn. Strangers to that sobriety of thought, that 
modesty of judgment, and docility of spirit, which char- 
acterize the lover of truth, they are either volatile and 
conceited, or captious and rash. Unaccustomed to re- 
flect on the great things pertaining to God and the soul, 
they are controlled by the mind of the flesh. 

Had the Samaritan lord only used the faculties with 
which he had been endowed, he might have ascertained 
whether Elisha was a true prophet ; or had he bethought 
himself for a moment, he would have concluded that 
nothing could be too difficult for God to do — that he 
who had once rained manna, might as easily send corn ; 
but simply because he did not see how the city could 
be so speedily and abundantly supplied with food, he 
rejected the truth of God's word. Hence, unbelief is 
derogatory, not only to God's perfections, but to our 
own high faculties of thought. It is wronging ourselves 



THE SKEPTIC. 221 

as well as God, to question his word, and therefore 
doubly criminal — frustrating at once God's benevo- 
lence, and the end of man's rational constitution. 

If, therefore, it was right for God to convince this 
Samaritan lord of the unreasonableness of his skepti- 
cism, it was not wrong to punish him for his impious 
presumption and excuseless unbelief. He who would 
not believe the promise, did not deserve to partake of 
the blessing. 

Man, in the hour of his extremity, is prone either to 
doubt God's word, or to despair of succor. We have 
already seen that the king was on the eve of abandoning 
his faith : and it may be that some of the elders were 
ready to respond to the expression of his feelings : but 
then it was that God interposed, by the voice of his ser- 
vant, and bade them hope. So did God come forth to 
the rescue of his chosen people, at the very moment 
when, hedged in as they were between precipitous cliffs 
on the one hand, and the Egyptian garrisons on the 
other — with a relentless enemy behind them, and an 
impassable sea before them — their destruction seemed 
to be inevitable. God's time to help is when all human 
resources are exhausted. Yes, when the strength of his 
people is gone, then God appears, in his all-sufficiency, 
to succor, and to comfort, and to save. Various illus- 
trations of this truth might be gathered from the sacred 
page ; thereby teaching us that, whatever the condition 
in which we are placed by his providence, we should 
always wait, and hope on, though hope be long delayed. 
No miracles may now be wrought in our behalf; but 
are there no " great and precious promises" that we do 
19* 



222 THE SKEPTIC. 

well to despair? Even though our comforts should be 
taken from us, can he not turn our sorrow into joy, our 
darkness into light ? To despair, is to distrust him who 
cannot be false to his word ; it is to limit him whose re- 
sources are as boundless as the infinity of his nature. 
" Is the Lord's hand waxed short?" said God to Moses, 
when it seemed to him that all the herds, and even all 
the fish of the sea, could not suffice to feed so great a 
multitude in the wilderness. " Thou sbalt see now 
whether my word shall come to pass unto thee or not." 
The more God's people trust in him, the more they 
honor him and magnify his perfections. The stronger 
our faith, the greater the glory that redounds to God's 
name. The more implicit our reliance, the deeper will 
be our sense of his favor, and the broader the shield of 
his protection. " Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace 
whose mind is stayed on thee ; because he trusteth in 
thee." — "O fear the Lord, ye his saints, for there is 
no want to them that fear him." — "They that seek 
the Lord shall not want any good thing." — "Behold, 
God is greater than man." Independent in his authority, 
he does according to his will. Omnipotent, his purpose 
cannot be frustrated. Infinite in wisdom and good- 
ness, with him is " no variableness, neither shadow of 
turning." As he proved himself to be in the days of 
holy men of old, such is he now. He cannot deny 
himself; if his word fail — 

" The pillared firmament is rottenness, 
And earth's base built on stubble." 

To dispute God's authority, is disobedience ; but to 
question his word, is to add insult to rebellion. If a 



THE SKEPTIC. 223 

good man is sorely wounded by a want of confidence in 
his integrity, how much more must such a being as God 
be affected by any reluctance on the part of his crea- 
tures to either accredit his word or rely on his promises ! 
Hence, though God suffered the Samaritan lord to be 
convinced, he did not permit him to participate in the 
general joy. So when Israel skeptically inquired, " Can 
God furnish a table in the wilderness ?" we are told that 
the Lord heard it, and was wroth. And when such 
numbers perished in the wilderness, we are told that it 
was because of their unbelief. By unbelief, men so dis- 
honor and displease God, that they deprive themselves 
of all the benefits which he may have held in reversion 
for them — actually frustrating the designs of his mercy 
and grace. Hence the importance attached to faith in 
the testimony of his son Jesus Christ. 

"Ye brainless wits, ye baptized infidels, 
Ye worse for mending, washed to fouler stains, 
The ransom was paid down, and paid — 
What can exalt the bounty more 1 — for you." 

Hence, also, we are warned " against an evil heart prone 
to unbelief" — "lest we should fall after the same ex- 
ample of unbelief." 

In his punishment of unbelievers, God will be gov- 
erned by no respect of persons. But how often is this 
principle of his government overlooked or unheeded ; 
how many flatter themselves in their own eyes, until it 
seems to them that God cannot and will not judge them 
as he may others ; that some other standard of judgment 
is due to them — men who are so exalted in public esti- 
mation, clad with so much honor, or gifted with such 
noble power? ! Religion is well enough for the general 



224 THE SKEPTIC. 

mind, but for themselves, they are above all vulgar prej- 
udices ; they are not to be cajoled — nothing short of 
demonstrative evidence can satisfy them ! Or, they are 
of too much consequence in the sight of men, to be con- 
demned by God for a mere defect in faith ! So might 
he have reasoned on whose arm the king of Israel 
leaned ; but though he wore the badge of nobility, and 
enjoyed the highest proofs of royal confidence and favor, 
yet was he trodden to death by the people in the gate- 
way, and simply because he had presumed to question 
the word of the Almighty ! Instead of being an apology, 
his rank was an aggravation of his unbelief; and God, 
in causing him to be trampled to death, because of his 
unbelief, thereby proclaimed through all the land, that, 
though the advantages of birth and station might serve 
to extenuate crime among men, who are apt to be misled 
by sympathy or blinded by selfish interest, no one of 
the sons of men should anticipate exemption from the 
just punishment due to unbelief, be his worldly distinc- 
tion from others what it may. In his sight, all men, as 
the subjects of his government, are on an equality — in- 
dividually responsible for their belief as well as their 
deeds ; nor will the great God, after the manner of 
some corrupt legislation, punish in a poor and obscure 
man what he would overlook in a man of rank and in- 
fluence. An earthly judge may be either bribed, flat- 
tered, or intimidated ; but to suppose that the Judge of 
all the earth could be unjust, is to forget that he is God, 
and not man. He now calls on all men, without dis- 
tinction, to believe in Christ; and woe be to him — no 
matter what his office in the state, or position in society 



THE SKEPTIC. 225 

— what the superiority of his endowments, or the great- 
ness of his achievements — who rejects the testimony 
which he has given of his Son ! " He that believeth 
not shall be damned !" And who has said this, but 
the high and holy One ? " Hath he said, and shall he 
not do it ? hath he spoken, and shall he not make it 
good ? The Lord is not a man, that he should lie ; nor 
the son of man, that he should repent." 

Whatever difficulties may embarrass one's specula- 
tive inquiries, or however plausible the arguments by 
which he may contrive to hush the alarms of his guilty 
conscience — though he may think that greater evidence 
should be furnished for a mind so peculiarly constructed 
as his — the only question which will be put to him, and 
which peremptorily requires an immediate answer, is 
this : Does he believe God's word, and rest for salva- 
tion from the wrath to come, on the faith in Christ ? If 
not, then there is no alternative, no excuse, no help for 
him — his doom is sealed ! As the Samaritan lord was 
trodden to death in the gate, so surely will that unbe- 
liever " be punished with everlasting destruction from 
the presence of the Lord." 

It is not more certain that God's promises to the 
righteous will be fulfilled, than that he will execute his 
threatenings against the wicked. All that God has 
promised to the former, they shall receive and enjoy. 
Yet a little while, and they shall " lift up their heads, 
and behold their redemption drawing nigh." Singled 
out of " every kindred, and tongue, and people, and 
nation," they shall enter on the riches of " the inherit- 
ance of the saints in light." 



226 THE SKEPTIC. 

But what has become of those who rejected the dis- 
coveries of God's word, and would not accredit his 
promises to the faithful ? Have they then the evidence 
that God hath " spoken unto us in these last days by 
his Son," and that he is able to save those who put 
their trust in him? Do they even behold what the 
righteous are permitted to enjoy? Yes — there is heav- 
en ! There are the shining ranks of angelic intelligence ; 
there the rejoicing multitudes whose robes have been 
made white in the blood of the Lamb ; there the re- 
splendent and ineffable manifestations of the Divine 
presence : — 

" It is glory beyond all glory ever seen, 
By waking sense or by the dreaming soul !" 

Fain would they now enter that world of light, and pu- 
rity, and bliss ; but ah ! it is too late. 

God is faithful, having promised — and so must he be 
true to himself, having threatened, — "The righteous 
enter life eternal ; but the wicked go away into everlast- 
ing punishment." 



THE APOSTATE. 227 



THE APOSTATE. 

The history of the Jewish kings, though it abounds 
in remarkable facts, is wanting in all that secures the 
interest of profane history. We read of political move- 
ments, military equipments, and bloody battles, but all 
is narrated in a manner, not to exalt the regal actor, but 
to exhibit his principles ; not to incite a vain ambition, 
or thirst for martial glory — but to impress the fear of 
God, and the duty of obedience. Great achievements 
arrest attention, and great works rise upon our view ; 
but they appear of subordinate moment compared with 
the religious character of him whose reign is depicted. 
In profane history, man is seen in his proud authority, 
ambitious plans, and selfish manceuvres ; in sacred his- 
tory, God is seen in his sovereignty over man — true to 
his word, and just in his dealings, though he may long 
" wait to be gracious." 

In the former, religion is state policy, and the priest 
but second to the king ; in the latter, religion is the su- 
preme law of the realm, and the king subordinate to the 
prophet. The king is placed on trial, and it soon ap- 
pears whether he is a righteous or a wicked man, and 
whether his reign will be prosperous or disastrous. 
Whatever his principle? or his passions — his virtues, 
his vices, or his foible?, all are seen, through his recorded 



228 THE APOSTATE. 

acts, with unerring distinctness. The history of other 
kings, however instructive to those who are called to 
occupy posts of authority and rule, can be of no practi- 
cal benefit to the general mind. After traversing the 
voluminous pages of a Rollin or a Hume, much as we 
have gathered respecting any king in his relation to his 
subjects, we know little or nothing of him as a man, in 
his relation to God. But, in the sacred record, a few 
sentences suffice to reveal the actual character of a ruler, 
not merely as he seemed to men, but as he was in the 
sight of God. Hence, as the example of the king to 
his subjects, such may it now be (though at so long an 
interval) to us — either a pattern or a warning. Every 
man, whatever his sphere in life, is now tested, as were 
the kings of old ; and the inspired record of their acts 
is as a mirror, in which he may behold his own moral 
self. The correctness of this view will appear from con- 
sidering the acts of Amaziah, the eighth king of Judah, 
son and successor of Joash.* 

At the commencement of his reign, he seemed to be 
most gentle and placable in his temper, and strongly 
disposed to serve God. He subjected his father's mur- 
derers to the penalty of the law, but spared their chil- 
dren ; steadfastly opposed the worship of idols, but over- 
looked the practice of sacrificing in the high places. 
There was in him a strange blending of justice and 
lenity, of zeal and laxity, of religious principles and 
selfish interests ; and, though to the eye of his subjects 
he presented the aspect of a good man and righteous 
prince, yet his heart was not perfect : he had no single- 

* 2 Chronicles, chap. xxv. 



THE APOSTATE. 229 

ness of eye, no unreserved devotedness, no true humil- 
ity. Under a prepossessing exterior lurked a love of 
excitement that betokened an unquiet reign ; a thirst 
for power that might one day involve him in war ; a 
pride that might betray him into malignant passions ; and 
a regard for pelf that endangered his fealty to God. He 
supported the temple-service, yet his heart was more in 
military tactics than in the worship of God. He showed 
great respect for the law, but it was not after " the man- 
ner of David." 

Without consulting the Divine pleasure, he projected 
an expedition against the Edomites ; and though God 
had favored him, in enabling him to collect so large and 
well-equipped an army, that there was no likelihood of 
any king competing with him in numbers, yet, as a 
precautionary measure, he must hire a hundred thou- 
sand allies, and these, too, from among an idolatrous 
people ! They, however, were at last dismissed, at the 
instance of a prophet whom God had sent to remon- 
strate with him against the measure, and who assured 
him that, notwithstanding his loss of the hundred talents 
which he had advanced to his mercenaries, God was 
able to recompense him a hundredfold. But, in yield- 
ing to the prophet, it is not improbable he was influ- 
enced partly by the fear of losing his life should he per- 
sist in his plan, and partly by the hope of some great 
reward for his pecuniary sacrifice. Duty entered not 
into his councils ; and hence, success only served to 
develop the latent and ruling elements of his character. 

He had defeated the armies of Edom in a pitched 
battle, and, thinking to spread the opinion of his strength 

20 



230 THE APOSTATE. 

and the terror of his arms, had forced ten thousand of 
the fugitives over a precipice ; and now he is rejoicing 
in his triumph, and instead of acknowledging his obli- 
gations to the God of battles, actually paying homage 
to the idol-gods of the conquered Edomites ! In vain 
did the prophet rebuke him for worshipping idols which 
had not been able to deliver their votaries from the power 
of his sword. So far from listening to such timely coun- 
sel, he sternly bade the prophet forbear, on penalty of 
his displeasure ; and, yielding to the promptings of his 
pride and revenge, not only determined to inflict sum- 
mary vengeance on those who, on being dismissed from 
his army, had plundered the country through which 
they returned, but to challenge the king of Israel. This 
defiance, though at first treated with contemptuous ridi- 
cule, Jehoash was eventually forced to accept. The 
sarcastic parable of the wild beast treading down a proud 
thistle that had demanded the daughter of a strong and 
stately cedar in marriage, served to exasperate the proud 
conqueror of Edom ; and, without admitting to himself 
the possibility of defeat, he forthwith invaded the do- 
mains of his kingly neighbor. But he has presumed 
on his own greatness, underrated his enemy's strength, 
and, above all, forgotten that God had a controversy 
with him for his obstinate idolatry. The battle-field of 
Bethshemesh signalized his defeat, and sealed his dis- 
grace. Instead of returning as a hero with the trophies 
of victory, he is himself a prisoner — carried back to 
Jerusalem by him whom he had so haughtily challenged, 
and there forced not only to give up a large number of 
hostages to secure the peace, but to witness the sad 



THE APOSTATE* 231 

demolition of a part of the wall of the city, and the pil- 
lage of the temple and palace. Still, his reverses did 
not humble him ; and though he was permitted to reign 
for fifteen years after his captivity, yet he " did not re- 
turn unto the Lord." On the contrary, he waxed worse 
and worse, until his iniquities and idolatries were no 
longer to be endured, even by his own subjects. In 
vain did he attempt to flee from the conspiracy which 
had been formed against him : Lachish could furnish 
no hiding-place for one whom " God had determined 
to destroy." He who was once surrounded by three 
hundred thousand troops, is now without a solitary aid. 
He who thrust ten thousand of his fellow-creatures from 
off the brink of an awful precipice, now falls himself — 
unpitied, unlamented — by the hand of his servants! 

But the case of Amaziah is only one of the numerous 
instances of apostasy and its consequences which stain 
the annals of Judaism. We look back on such instances 
with astonishment — especially when we consider that 
their religion had been authenticated and established by 
a series of miraculous events, and that temporal rewards 
and punishments invariably followed the Hebrew rulers, 
according as they obeyed or disobeyed the Divine re- 
quirements. But though length of days and general 
prosperity were the portion of those who conscientiously 
observed the Mosaic enactments — and poverty, disease, 
war, and a violent death, the threatened consequences 
of their violation — yet the very fact that the Mosaic 
economy was burdened with minute and irksome cere- 
monies, might have induced an indisposition to obey, 
and rendered every temptation to remissness or neglect 



232 THE APOSTATE. 

only the more insidiously effective ; while familiarity 
with the regular course of things under that dispensation 
might have impaired, in the Hebrew mind, the force 
which seems to us to be attached to the idea of tempo- 
ral sanctions. It is a question, moreover, whether simi- 
lar reverses in life were not observable among the sur- 
rounding heathen nations ; and if so, the human mind 
might then, as now, have been prone to rest in second 
causes : or, while observing the course of things, many 
a one, through the " deceitfulness of sin," might have 
secretly indulged the hope of sinning with impunity. 
Besides, as the change which the government of the 
Hebrews had undergone in its external form, from the 
judicial and patriarchal to the monarchical, its original 
theocratic element was gradually lost sight of; and it is 
not improbable they came at last to think that they 
should vie in their manners and customs with the kings 
of the heathen nations. Such were seen to be both 
large and flourishing, notwithstanding their idolatries ; 
and thus the Hebrew kings might have been tempted to 
think that the gods of those ancient kingdoms — Assyria 
and Egypt — were not, after all, so inferior in power to 
Jehovah himself.* Aside from these considerations — 

* The causes of apostasy from a pure faith are always analogous, 
however different the circumstances of its development, or the objects 
of idolatrous devotion. Most instances that may be gathered from the 
records of early Christianity, were owing, not so much to persecution — 
for this tends to energize rather than to disperse the adherents of any 
cause — but to the seductive influences of Grecian mythology. Chris- 
tianity imposed restraints on the wonted thoughts and passions of human 
nature, while paganism was not incompatible with the most licentious 
skepticism. To us, the deities of Olympus are no less idols, because 
less gross in their forms, than those which apostate Israel worshipped. 
Yet we can readily conceive by how easy a process a mind susceptible 
of lively impressions, might have been gradually led, notwithstanding 



THE APOSTATE. 233 

that the kings of Israel so often apostatized, is, in fact, 
no more incredible or unaccountable, than that men are 
now but seldom restrained from following their own 
hearts' lusts, though they are not ignorant of the natural 
consequences of vice. They may have even seen its 
effects on the health, and character, and property, of 
many of its victims ; yet how often do they act as if they 

the restraints of an early Christian education, to make an offering of its 
reason on the altars of Jupiter and Apollo. Amid the magnificence of 
heathen temples — the embodied conceptions of poets, as displayed in 
the chiselled marble and speaking canvas — the pomp of festivals and 
sacrifices, and the traditions of oracles and prodigies, all consecrated in 
the estimation of the people by ancient practice — Christianity had as 
little in its outward forms to impose on the popular credulity, as in its 
principles to prepossess the sensual judgment. Compared with the time- 
honored usages and associations of the Grecian mythology, it labored 
under a disadvantage not unlike that of a protestant church, recently 
planted in the midst of a community which has been long swayed by 
the gorgeous rites and flexible principles of Romanism, and where in- 
terest lends its aid to the seductions of enthroned error. In the days, 
too, of Porphyry and Julian, those apostates from Christianity, genius 
and learning were associated with the pagan religion. One could con- 
form to the vulgar superstitions, and be in only the higher repute among 
the disciples of Plato or the lovers of Homer. In like manner, the kings 
of Judah might have thought to promote their personal respectability, 
and elevate themselves in the rank of nations, by conforming to the 
idolatrous rites of kingdoms greater than their own. Perhaps there was 
much in both the Assyrian and Egyptian mode of worship to impress a 
mind at all addicted to superstitious fears, and elicit at least temporary 
assent to fables, however repugnant they were to reason and experience, 
as well as to the principles of the Hebrew's faith. Certain it is, that 
which to our view is but wood or stone, was then the emblem of some 
supernatural attribute, as but a lump of clay once seemed to the senate 
and people of Rome endowed with life, and sentiment, and divine power. 
For aught we can adduce to the contrary, the apostate kings of Judah 
would have indignantly repelled the charge of idolatry ; flattering them- 
selves, while countenancing heathen rites, that they were only exploring 
that occult wisdom which the prudence of antiquity had disguised in 
forms and fables, just as Porphyry did in his day ; or, as the proselyte to 
Romanism, in affecting to have discovered some profound ecclesiastical 
sense in unscriptural rites and usages, contrives at once to retain his 
self-respect, and shield his conscience from the charge of apostasy from 
the Christian faith. 

20* 



234 THE APOSTATE. 

could violate the laws of their moral and physical being 
with impunity ! Neither are they blind to the noontide 
evidences with which Christianity accompanies its claim 
on their faith and obedience ; yet how often do they per- 
sist in their sins as securely as though the wrath of God 
had not been revealed against all ungodliness and un- 
righteousness among men ! 

It may be thought, however, that the Hebrews, as a 
people, were without adequate religious instruction, and 
that the prophets themselves were at fault. If there was 
at any period a lack of knowledge, the lips of the priest 
had been sealed by the tyranny of some apostate ruler ; 
and though there were from time to time false prophets, 
as there are now false teachers, yet is it evident that, 
from the days of Solomon down to the return from the 
Babylonish captivity, there was a succession of illustri- 
ous men whose province it was to instruct in all matters 
appertaining to the law, as well as to receive and com- 
municate the Divine will : men who engaged in no 
business nor adopted any habits inconsistent with that 
tranquillity of mind which their sacred calling required, 
and whose simplicity of life accorded with the dignity 
of their office and the purport of their teachings : men 
whom selfishness could not bribe, nor power awe ; and 
who, being free from the allurements of avarice, and 
alike independent of both king and people, acted with 
promptitude, and spoke to the purpose, with a clearness 
of utterance none could mistake, and a faithfulness few 
could withstand. Acting as messengers between Jeho- 
vah and his earthly representatives, their influence was 
without a parallel ; nor did it cease when they in turn 



THE APOSTATE. 235 

ceased to be known among the living. Their predic- 
tions remained, to be attested by the developments of 
ages ; their instructions, to guide and guard the mind of 
each succeeding generation ; and their example, to ani- 
mate the timid, and nerve them for a holy warfare with 
spiritual wickedness in high places. And though the 
enemy should now come in like a flood, and thick dark- 
ness overspread the prospects of Zion, the names of the 
prophets will again be as watchwords in the city of our 
God ; and like signal-fires, blazing from afar and stream- 
ing through the lapse of ages, will serve to reunite the 
dejected followers of the Lamb, and bid them hope ! 

But if, notwithstanding the instructions they enjoyed 
and the warnings they received, the Jewish people, with 
their kings, so often apostatized, what had been the reli- 
gious condition of Judea — wherein would she have 
differed from polytheistic nations — if her hills had 
never echoed to the voice of her heaven-sent seers, nor 
her high places so often witnessed the miraculous attes- 
tation of their word ? 

Even now, some are not backward to reflect on the 
efficiency of the church, and the faithfulness of her min- 
istry to the world around ; but if, in spite of the com- 
bined influences of Christian instructions and ordinances, 
there are such repeated and deplorable departures from 
Christian faith and practice, what would be the condi- 
tion of society, and the prospects of the world, were the 
church disbanded, and the voice of her ministry silenced! 

But the history of Amaziah, in its essential features, 
may serve to illustrate the course of not a few at the 



236 THE APOSTATE. 

present day. At first they show signs of being influ- 
enced by a regard to " the law and the testimony :" in 
many things they cannot be distinguished from the truly 
religious ; but their heart is not whole with God. 
There is a latent deference to the ways of the world- — 
a hankering after its riches, its honors, or its pleasures ; 
and hence, when placed in circumstances of trial, they 
begin to sacrifice duty to interest, and conscience to in- 
clination — to multiply their worldly relations, and 
strengthen their worldly interests — even as Amaziah 
sought the aid of an idolatrous people to further his 
ambitious projects. Thus alliances are formed with un- 
believers for worldly ends ! Thus means, in themselves 
unlawful, are sometimes employed to effect good ends. 
Thus, the capital invested in an iniquitous business, has 
led many a man to resist the demands of justice and 
humanity — and the fear of pecuniary loss, to withstand 
the claims of Christian benevolence. It is by occasion- 
ally yielding to the promptings of worldly interest, that 
a neglect of all religious duties ultimately ensues ; it is 
in consequence of having always had some private end 
to answer, that the man who might have seemed to 
be religious, betrays at last his real character. In this 
way we account for the lamentable fact, that some, who 
once made a creditable profession of faith, have, through 
the gradual ascendency of worldly interests over their 
hearts, been seduced into infidelity; and that others were 
led on from one little act of overreaching to another, 
until " the hundred talents of silver" — some great 
temptation — overcame whatever moral principle was 
left, and blasted their character. Men of this class may 



THE APOSTATE. 237 

not have been hypocrites. It is not necessary to con- 
clude that such embraced religion to advance their in- 
terests in life: they deceived themselves — either mis- 
taking their intellectual convictions. for a change in their 
affections, or their willingness to submit to the outward 
requirements of religion, for a love of truth and duty, 
as they might have prepossessed others in favor of their 
piety, by their acts of goodness. 

Amaziah should have obeyed the command of the 
Most High instantly and cheerfully, whatever might 
have been the personal sacrifice inseparable from obedi- 
ence. But the question which he proposed to the 
prophet — ""What shall we do for the hundred talents 
which I have given to the army of Israel?" — plainly 
showed that he had no singleness of heart — though at 
first he had done what the law required. He would 
have obeyed, if obedience had cost him nothing! but 
so expensive a proof made him hesitate ; nor would he 
at last have yielded, had not the strongest motives been 
addressed at once to his hopes and to his fears. 

Thus, too, may men be found at the present day, 
who, in all requirements which clash not with their in- 
clinations, seem to be religious ; but make known to 
them some duty that demands self-denial, and it seems 
to them unreasonably severe, highly inexpedient, if not 
impracticable. Had it occurred to them before, they 
would have done otherwise, but now it is too late. If 
it be duty, it cannot be discharged consistently with awise 
and prudent regard to their worldly interests : the loss 
will be too great — not to be retrieved by years of toil. 
What shall we do ? 'I have made my arrangements to 



238 THE APOSTATE. 

go,' says one : ' I have formed the alliance,' says anoth- 
er : * I have invested a hundred talents in the enter- 
prise,' says a third ; or, * Others will have the benefits, 
though I should withdraw.' Such are some of the ex- 
pedients of the worldly mind to evade the requisitions 
of known duty ; and whether the amount involved be 
more or less ; whether the self-denial required have ref- 
erence to a secular engagement which is incompatible 
with the enjoyment of religious privileges and the claims 
of charity — to an interest in some moneyed company, 
which for gain desecrates the Sabbath of the Lord, or 
repudiates its engagements — to the prosecution of a 
business, in itself immoral, or which trenches on those 
hours that belong to God and the soul — or to those 
places of worldly amusement, and parties of pleasure, 
and habits of living, to forego which, is thought to in- 
volve the loss of standing in society; — the principle of 
disobedience to Heaven's requirements is the same, — 
be it detected in the cautious capitalist, the grasping 
speculator, the ambitious demagogue, or in the frivo- 
lous fashionist. Nor is it merely with reference to such 
cases, or only occasionally, that we are virtually called 
on to decide whether we will forego interest for duty, or 
sacrifice duty for selfish gain and pleasure ; every day 
brings with it its trial of our faith and principles ; and 
according as we decide, either for or against duty, such 
are we — either the servants of God or the worshippers 
of mammon. 

Amaziah did at last decide to dismiss his mercenary 
troops, though he knew that by so doing he incurred 
the loss of a hundred talents of silver ; but he acted 



THE APOSTATE. 239 

not from a principle of cordial obedience. Perhaps, as 
soon as the prophet left him, his fears subsided, and he 
regretted the sacrifice which he had made ; or, when re- 
moved from the restraining influence of so holy a man, 
he might have felt himself at liberty to act out the im- 
pulses of his own heart. 

To what fearful changes is our nature liable ! How 
insidious, yet how rapid, the process by which a heart 
of flesh becomes a heart of stone ! He who was once 
so gentle toward his subjects, who would on no account 
consent to the execution of the murderer's children — 
has just driven ten thousand captive Edomites to a 
frightful death ! He who quailed before the prophet, 
and trembled in view of the consequences of going 
contrary to the will of Heaven, could turn a deaf ear to 
the frantic shrieks of so many helpless mortals ; and as 
he stood on Sela,* could look down with an eye of 
vindictive triumph on the mighty heaps of the dying 
and the dead. And now the king who had been 
brought up in the knowledge and service of the God of 
Israel — who would allow none of his subjects, on pen- 
alty of the law, to worship any strange god, — returns to 
Jerusalem with the spoils of the slain ; and in the pres- 
ence of his people — at the threshold of the holy tem- 
ple — burns incense to the idol-gods of the Edomites ! 

This has been regarded as an unaccountable circum- 
stance. But it was in our view, the natural conse- 
quence of a heart that, from the first, had not been 
whole with God. He who sanctioned the practice of 

* Sela, in the Hebrew language, corresponds to Petra in the 
Greek — the Rock, 



240 THE APOSTATE. 

offering sacrifices in the high places, could not have 
been very strict in his principles, or decided in his an- 
tipathies to idol-worship ; and a change of circumstan- 
ces might readily induce a change of life : as he who, 
notwithstanding his acknowledgment of the authority of 
God's written word, connives at popish rites, or sanc- 
tions uncommanded fasts and festivals, is prepared, when 
circumstances favor, to bring in the gods of Rome. 

Jeroboam's idolatry, while it betrayed an inherent 
predilection for a false religion, was an expedient to re- 
tain the allegiance of his subjects, already fascinated by 
the idols of the heathen ; just as false teachers gather fol- 
lowers and retain their influence by sanctioning worldly 
customs, and giving utterance to the prejudices of that 
" carnal mind," which " is enmity against God." 

Solomon, in giving unbridled license to his desires, 
became at last their slave, and the tool of those by whom 
they were excited ; and his apostasy may be explained 
by the fact that the passions and appetites, when in- 
dulged to excess, always gain the mastery over reason. 
But the difficulty in assigning a satisfactory reason for 
Amaziah's apostasy, arises from his having selected as 
his idols the gods of a people whom he had just sub- 
dued. Yet he might have thought, in the grossness of 
his heart, that since the gods of the Edomites had de- 
serted them for him, they had some claims on his grate- 
ful homage — as Ahaz aimed to propitiate the idols of 
Syria, which he imagined had been the authors of his 
calamities. 

Possibly he was haunted by the remembrance of his 
cruelty toward the Edomites, and therefore sought to 



THE APOSTATE. 241 

allay the terrors of his excited imagination by depreca- 
ting the wrath of their gods ; for the blacker the enor- 
mity of one's deeds, the more readily may the grossest 
superstition be practised, in the hope of relief from the 
action of a guilty heart. Hence it has been observed, 
that they who undertake the most criminal and danger- 
ous enterprises, are commonly the most superstitious.* 
Thus Catiline was not contented with the established 
deities and received rites of the national faith. His 
anxious terrors made him seek new inventions of the 
kind, which had never occurred to him had he remained 
obedient to the laws of his country.t 

It is not to be presumed, however, that Amaziah from 
the first had deliberately resolved to apostatize from the 
God of Israel. Not improbably the gods of Edom were 
of gold, and being curiously wrought, they gratified his 
eye ; and, in carrying them ofT, his primary design might 
have been simply to adorn his " high places" with the 
spoils of victory. Thus the final apostasy of Ahaz may 
be referred to his visit to Damascus, where he saw an 
idolatrous altar, with the style of which he was so much 
pleased, that he sent a plan of it to Urijah to form one 
similar, and to place it in the room of the brazen altar 
which had been erected by Solomon. Wide departures 
from the simplicity of primitive faith and worship often 
have their beginning in changes which are regarded 
simply as improvements, or the evidences of a mind 
enlarged by travel and refined by classic culture. No 
people ever apostatized all at once from the true wor- 
ship of God, and but few, if any, have at first had the 
* Diod. Sic, lib. xv. t Cic. Catil., i. ; Sail, de Catil. Conj. 
-21 



242 THE APOSTATE. 

remotest conception of the lengths to which they have 
gone. 

Whatever his reason, Amaziah's idolatry has its spir- 
itual parallel in him who returns from his foreign sojourn 
with sentiments inconsistent with the teachings of God's 
word, and with customs at variance with the integrity of 
Christian faith ; in him who, on performing some great 
work for the church, yields to the returning dominion 
of his own heart's lusts ; or in the man who, through 
his anxiety to deliver himself from the evils of poverty 
and obscurity, becomes enslaved to the riches he has 
acquired, or the honors he has won — as Cadmus, on 
destroying the dragons which defended the fountain 
sacred to Mars, was consequently involved in a servi- 
tude of years to the god of war. 

The propensity of the human heart is still to idol- 
worship ; nor is the idolatry less criminal in the sight of 
high Heaven, because its outward development may be 
mistaken by the world as the indication of a superior 
civilization and refined taste. Man is still prone to de- 
part from God ; and in adopting notions and conform- 
ing to practices foreign from the word of God, may give 
evidence of apostasy as real, though not as palpable to 
vulgar apprehension, as if he had bowed to Amaziah's 
idols — or, with Julian, substituted the ancilia for the 
cross, and consecrated his powers to the honor of Cybele. 

Instead of driving the captives, had the king only 
cast their idols, down the precipice, it would have been 
an easy proof of his deference to God, and one that 
might have readily occurred to any mind not lost to all 
regard for the right. But it is the infirmity of our na- 



THE APOSTATE. 243 

ture not always to be aware of the folly of an act until 
it is done ; nor always to be sensible of our guilt, even 
when it is apparent to others. How true is it that 
sin infatuates to destroy ! Had the king not been as 
foolhardy as he was criminal, he would have repented. 

Though infidels have been forward to asperse the 
character of the Hebrew's God — to represent him as 
arbitrary, unjust, and implacable, in no respect harmo- 
nizing with their idea of the God of the universe — yet 
they have only betrayed their ignorance, both of the na- 
ture of his government and the history of his people. 
He is indeed seen to be " a holy and jealous God ;" but 
it is equally apparent that "he is long-suffering and 
slow to anger." Amaziah himself had still space to 
repent. Notwithstanding his heinous offences, God, in 
infinite mercy, sent unto him a prophet, to bring him, 
if possible, to the penitent acknowledgment of his sins. 
Had the prophet charged him with his cruelty to the 
Edomites, he could not have exculpated himself on the 
ground of their incorrigible idolatry, because he could 
have shown no such commission as had authorized 
Joshua to exterminate the Canaanites ; and though such 
an act — abhorrent from every sentiment of humanity — 
seems to us more criminal than the burning of incense 
to idols, yet idolatry was the sin of sins under that dis- 
pensation, as unbelief in Christ is under the gospel. 
The latter carries with it the highest possible affront to 
God ; for " he that belie veth not the record which God 
hath given unto us of his Son, hath made him a liar :" 
and, in like manner, idolatry not merely impugned the 
authority of God's law, it aspersed his perfections, and 



244 THE APOSTATE. 

assailed his throne. To worship an idol, was virtually 
to wrest from God the sceptre of the universe ; and 
therefore the prophet — true to Him by whom he had 
been sent, and more deeply affected by Amaziah's idola- 
try than he had been even by his cruelty — forthwith 
said unto him, " Why hast thou sought after the gods 
of the people of Edom ?" What unaccountable ingrati- 
tude to Him who rendered you victorious ! what a hei- 
nous affront to the majesty of Heaven ! 

The king could not answer the prophet ; but, as is 
always the case with men when convicted of sins they 
are unwilling to renounce, he charged him with insolent 
obtrusiveness on his counsels, and even threatened to 
smite him, if he did not desist. The prophet might 
have anticipated such treatment, but it had not deterred 
him ; nor should the apprehension of incurring a guilty 
man's displeasure withhold one from the duty of Chris- 
tian reproof. Or, he might have thought that, as the 
king had been prevailed on by a prophet to dismiss his 
idolatrous mercenaries, so he might be induced to throw 
away his idols. But, whatever the probable result of 
his interview with the guilty king, the prophet's duty 
was clear. To have refrained from expostulating with 
him from motives of self-interest, or any reference to 
the probable uselessness of an attempt to reclaim him, 
would have been to connive at his idolatry ; but having 
now discharged his duty, he can do no more : the king 
must be left to his own course ; and so deep was the 
prophet's conviction of his obstinate persistence in apos- 
tasy, that, as he turned away, he pronounced his doom : 
" I know that God hath determined to destroy thee, be- 



THE APOSTATE. 245 

cause thou hast done this, and hast not hearkened unto 
my counsel." 

Amazing infatuation — to give up God for an idol! 
that God who made the heavens! Words are inade- 
quate to express the irrationality, the debasement, im- 
plied in such an exchange. The record of such an act 
almost staggers credulity. Yet such is the infatuation 
of human nature even now ; such the perversity of even- 
man who gives up God for the world — a world which, 
with all its riches and honors, all the wisdom of its phi- 
losophy, all the resources of its arts and sciences — is 
just as impotent to save the soul as the idols of Edom 
were to rescue Amaziah from destruction ! " How 
much for how little !" exclaimed an ancient prince who, 
in his extremity, had exchanged his kingdom for a 
draught of dirt}" water. But taking into view all that is 
implied in the loss of the soul, the worldling, in giving 
up God, gives up heaven for less than nothing and van- 
ity. " This is all that remains to Saladin, the conqueror 
of the world," said the criers as they carried his winding- 
sheet around the city : such is all that will remain to any- 
one who foregoes the favor of God-for the things of the 
world. Yet, strange as it may seem, the more glaring 
man's folly, the greater his reluctance to be reminded 
of it ; in proportion as he hankers after some worldly 
interest, is his aversion from all religious restraints, and 
his displeasure at reproof. 

No matter what may be his sin, if a man can listen to 
the voice of kind and faithful expostulation, there is 
ground for hope that he will yet repent ; but to repel 
the admonition of Heaven, is an ominous sign ! All is 

21* 



246 THE APOSTATE. 

wrong with that man, and will be worse ! In hating 
reproof, he proves his love for his sins. In rejecting 
the counsel of God, he grieves the Spirit of God. He 
must persist in his sins, despite of all warnings, for he is 
joined to his idols. 

God may have said : ' Let him live, but let him alone ; 
let him go on to gather up riches, to win honors, or to 
revel in sensual gratifications.' Others, as far from God 
as he is, may deem him a prosperous man, or envy him 
his abundance ; but " I know that God hath determined 
to destroy him," because he has given himself to the 
world, and has not hearkened to the warning voice of 
Heaven's mercy ! 

Had the king's heart, then, only been at first whole 
with God, how different would have been his course ! 
To this radical defect in his character may be traced 
that worldly policy which caused him to deviate from 
the right, and which eventuated in his apostasy. Hence 
the importance of a right heart at the beginning of a reli- 
gious life. Without this, there will be irresolution, wa- 
vering, and inconsistency — alternate observances and 
neglects, remissness and worldliness — an ague-fit, from 
hot to cold, from one passion to another, quite contrary 
— until God's service ceases to interest, and the world 
clinches its hold on our affections. 

What a contrast between the king and the prophet, in 
their respective views of duty, and sentiments toward 
God ! — the former, swayed by motives of worldly inter- 
est ; the latter, recognising no interest separate from obe- 
dience ; the one contending, as it were, for self and sin, 
the other true to God and the soul. 



THE APOSTATE. 247 

To the eye of the prophet, how great and glorious 
must God have seemed ! Dwelling: in the lisrht of his 
uncreated purity, he cannot look on sin but with abhor- 
rence. The giver of life, and breath, and all things, he 
has a right to require any sacrifice at the hands of his 
dependent creatures. Sovereign in his authority, infi- 
nite in wisdom, and resistless in power, he can abun- 
dantly recompense any sacrifice for his sake. There is 
sublimity in the prophet's simple and concise enuncia- 
tions to the king : " God hath power to help and to cast 
down. The Lord is able to give thee much more than 
this." To take in their full meaning and force, is to 
rise to the conception of God's universal and all-con- 
trolling agency, as the Creator of heaven and earth, and 
the Sovereign Disposer of the lots of all beings for time 
and eternity ! To admit their truth, may be simply an 
act of the reason ; but to rest the soul on them, and go 
forth to battle with life's temptations, with the assurance 
that God will be " our exceeding great reward," requires 
a faith in God which Amaziah did not possess. 

God could have more than made amends to him for 
the loss of his hundred talents ; he could have rendered 
all surrounding nations tributary to his resources, and 
secured to him a long and prosperous reign. So has 
he now all the treasures of earth and the kingdoms of 
the world at his disposal. He can prosper us in our 
business beyond our most sanguine expectations — exalt 
us to honor, or invest us with affluence — and that in a 
way we could not have foreseen, und at a time we could 
not have anticipated. 

This will be admitted by all who do not deny his 



248 



THE APOSTATE. 



providence ; yet it is equally clear from his word that he 
requires of us no sacrifice which he will not overrule 
for good. Comprehending at one view all times and 
relations, all beings and interests, he knows what is best 
for each of his servants — in what station, and under 
what circumstances, each in his sphere in life will most 
effectually answer the great end of his providence. 
Hence the difference in his providential arrangements : 
yet, in giving to one, and withholding from another, he 
is influenced by the same beneficent purpose ; and never 
exacts any sacrifice of worldly gain that is not for their 
good, and which he will not abundantly repay. Not 
that he will always repay the loss of present interest by 
greater riches, but he will by greater comfort in what 
remains. Not that he may not see fit to impose heavy 
afflictions on them, notwithstanding their sacrifices to 
duty — as he permitted the Israelites to harass the cities 
of Judah, though Amaziah had submitted to the loss of 
his talents — but their afflictions shall serve to "work 
out for them a far more exceeding and eternal weight 
of glory." 

Sacrifices to duty are inseparable from a state of 
moral trial and discipline. Certain things are wrong — 
not to be for a moment done or countenanced by one 
who regards the honor of God and his soul's good ; 
certain things must be foregone, however contrary the 
duty may be to the will of the flesh, or to the dictates of 
worldly policy. There is no third choice ; the sacrifice 
must be made, or we cannot be Christ's disciples. 

Yet such is the perversity of our nature, that we are 
not more reluctant to part with some forbidden interest, 



THE APOSTATE. 249 

for the sake of Christ, than prone to rely for acceptance 
in the sight of God *on some sacrifice already made. 
This, in all probahility, was the cause of iVmaziah's 
subsequent acts of disobedience and folly. He had 
given up the hundred talents ; it was a meritorious act 
in his estimation : God must repay him for so great a 
loss. Is it an unreasonable supposition ? Why is it, 
then, that so many who have made sacrifices, now make 
them no more ; that the complacent remembrance of 
some one duty discharged at the cost of certain worldly 
interests, makes amends for all subsequent neglects and 
habitual self-indulgence ? The history of Amaziah 
teaches this, if nothing else — that no former sacrifice 
of interest to duty will be accepted as an excuse for 
going on in sin. 

But his first mistake was in hiring the Israelites and 
preparing for his military expedition without having in- 
quired of the Lord. This was his imperative duty — a 
duty which all the religious kings of Judah had not 
failed to observe, and for the neglect of which there was 
the less excuse under a dispensation that secured spe- 
cial direction to every sincere inquirer of God's will 
before his holy altar. 

But they who are bent on following their own wills, 
seldom take the pains to ascertain the will of Heaven. 
The more intent they may be on worldly ends, the 
more desirous are they of avoiding, rather than of seek- 
ing, the requirements of duty. For this reason, Amaziah 
did not care to seek the Divine blessing : it would have 
been to abandon a project which, though not sanctioned 
by the law, was perhaps the less criminal, in his view, 



250 THE APOSTATE. 

if undertaken without any direct reference to the will 
of the Most High. 

Ominous omission ! revealing to us the state of the 
heart not less distinctly than the confession of the lips ; 
proclaiming what, if honest, the worldling will not deny 
— that he wishes not to he thwarted in his sinful pur- 
pose, nor troubled with " compunctious visitings." Ex- 
cuseless omission ! nor the less so, because some may 
think it difficult now to ascertain the will of God, or 
that others, through the delusions of enthusiasm, have 
mistaken the path of duty. We have no such appointed 
method for seeking counsel from God, as his ancient 
people enjoyed ; but we have that word which he has 
given unto us, as the only rule of faith and practice : 
and whatever the duty we may wish to ascertain, we can 
ask God himself, in the way of his own express appoint- 
ment, to aid us in the inquiry ; to disabuse our minds 
of false impressions ; to clear our vision from the mists 
of ignorance, prejudice, and passion ; to purify our hearts, 
and make us willing to receive the truth in the love of 
it ; to examine ourselves in the light of his word, and 
to dispose us to defer to the result of our scriptural 
inquiry, whether that be for or against our proposed 
undertaking. 

To go to the Scriptures without prayer, is to " lean to 
our own understandings" and " trust in our own hearts." 
To bring to the inquiry either the prejudices or the pre- 
possessions of the carnal mind, is to wrest the import 
of scriptural passages to suit our purpose. But to go 
to the word of God with a sincere, and humble, and 
prayerful desire to ascertain the nature of any particular 



THE APOSTATE, 251 

step — whether it is approved or condemned either by 
the letter or the spirit of the gospel — whether it will, 
on the whole, tend to promote the glory of God and the 
good of man — is to ascertain clearly and certainly the 
will of God. If we cannot satisfy ourselves that the 
step is accordant with the mind of the Spirit, and that 
it will conduce to our own and the best interests of those 
with whom we are connected, then, no matter what 
worldly advantages it may promise, it is contrary to the 
will of God for us to take that step — for us it is sin. 

There is, therefore, no security for one, no matter 
what his religious advantages, the moment he begins to 
yield to the suggestions of worldly interest, and either 
violates or neglects known duty. He may become an 
apostate ; he will backslide. He may be drawn into the 
commission of flagrant acts of selfishness ; he will lose 
his religious impressions and blunt his moral sensibili- 
ties. Whatever his besetting sin, it will become the more 
operative from being indulged, until our neighbor's rights 
and the honor of religion are of no account compared 
with the gratification of self. Thus the love of pleasure 
tends to harden the heart; of power, tempts to intrigue, 
defamation, and wrong ; of gain, to deception, overreach- 
ing, and extortion. Thus, too, do unlawful alliances 
necessarily impair the sentiment of fealty to God ; while 
sinful pursuits lead on from the neglect of one duty to 
the violation of another, and, from growing indifference 
to religion, to final apostasy from the faith. In like 
manner, that money which is retained or got at the ex- 
pense of truth and justice, will pierce the soul with 
many sorrows ; and those honors won at the cost of a 



252 THE APOSTATE. 

neighbor's rights, will rivet the chains which bind the 
soul to earth. Yes ; and those ordinances neglected for 
the sake of worldly recreation, those Sabbaths violated 
for the sake of gain, all will rise up in judgment to con- 
demn the worldling. 

Be nothing, then, in the world's estimation, rather 
than conspicuous and renowned, to the sacrifice of 
Heaven's approving smile. Have nothing — starve, ra- 
ther than grow rich in a way God has forbidden. Such 
is the answer which an inquirer after duty would receive, 
were he to consult the sacred oracles. 

If, however, duty is naught to him, and the world 
all — then let him go on, and get gain, and power, and 
pleasure, in any way he can, no matter what law of 
Heaven is trampled under foot ; let him make every 
" provision for the flesh to fulfil the lusts thereof." But 
he should be strong for the battle ; for the day of retri- 
bution is at hand, when God shall deal with him ! God 
is able to make him fall. " He has power to cast into 
hell." — " The wicked shall not stand in the judgment." 



253 



THE WISE MAN'S CONTRASTS. 

The human mind is prone to extremes. No matter 
what the object of its thoughts, it seldom preserves a 
just medium either in its pursuits, its sentiments, or its 
emotions. It is either immoderate or remiss ; bigoted 
or latitudinarian ; fanatical or formal ; volatile and frivo- 
lous, or gloomy and despondent. Now visions of bliss 
float before its eye, and anon forms of terror haunt its 
fancy. Now it surrenders itself to the gratifications of 
sense, as though there were no happiness apart from 
sensual indulgences ; and again it shrinks even from in- 
nocent pleasures as from images of death. Hence, we 
find among the ancients, the Epicureans and the Stoics : 
Alcibiades, on the one hand, as the personification of 
sensualism, and Diogenes, on the other, as the personi- 
fication of asceticism. Thence follows the monk with 
his crucifix, his cowl, and his dreary cave, as opposed 
to the bearing and habits of the gay cavalier ; and these 
have given place in turn to the radical religionist, as 
opposed to the baptized fashionist. Even our modern 
schools of philosophy are arrayed against each other by 
the antagonist systems of sensualism and idealism. 

But herein is the beneficent distinction of Christianity 
as a moral code. It avoids all extremes, and sanctions 
no extravagance. So far from recognising the cloistered 

92 



254 THE WISE man's contrasts. 

cell, it sends us to the busy haunts of men — teaching 
us that " no man liveth unto himself," and that he who 
provideth not " for those of his own house, hath denied 
the faith, and is worse than an infidel." So far from 
exacting in tribute the " lees and settlings of a melan- 
choly blood," it teaches us " to rejoice with those who 
do rejoice," and " to use the world as not abusing it." 
— "Eat thy bread with joy, and drink thy wine with a 
merry heart. Let thy garments be always white ; and 
let thy head lack no ointment. Live joyfully with the 
wife whom thou lovest all the days of thy life." 

" How charming is divine philosophy ! — 
Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose, 
But musical as is Apollo's lute, 
And a perpetual feast of nectared sweets, 
Where no crude surfeit reigns." 

No feature of our holy religion is more to be admired 
than this — that while it enjoins what is right, it forbids 
nothing that is innocent ; while it cautions us against 
forgetting ourselves, it would not prevent us from en- 
joying ourselves — aiming, as it does, to make us spir- 
itual, but not at the expense of the conditions of animal 
life ; pure, but not to the impeachment of Divine wis- 
dom, " for every creature of God is good ;" happy, not 
in forgetfulness of the end of our being, but by means 
of our moral discipline, and preparation for another and 
better world. 

In accordance with these views is the observation of 
Solomon, that " it is better to go to the house of mourn- 
ing than to go to the house of feasting."* Not that it is 
wrong to go to the house of feasting : there are times 
* Eccles. vii. 2, 4. 



THE WISE MAN'S CONTRASTS. 255 

when we may, without impropriety, and for wise ends, 
meet around the festive board, or join the social circle; 
but it is hetter to go to the house of mourning. This 
may appear to be a strange estimation of life : better to 
see tears than smiles, to hear groans than laughter, to 
be environed by gloom and sadness than to bathe in 
sunlight ! Such a sentiment must needs awaken a host 
of repellant associations, and not a few will be forward 
to dissent from Solomon's judgment, notwithstanding 
his world-wide reputation for wisdom. 

But it will not be questioned, by any reflecting mind, 
that the house of feasting tends to excite and foster emo- 
tions unfavorable to religion. Where is it that pride 
and vanity so often enter, or that sinful passions are so 
often enkindled, as in the house of feasting? When 
fashion attires herself in costliest style, and beauty 
wreathes her brow, and grace lends enchantment to the 
dance, and music's sweetest strains fall upon the rav- 
ished ear, how readily may the heart be betrayed ; and 
how much greater the danger when the richest viands 
and the choicest wines conspire to stimulate the palate 
and exhilarate the spirits ! Hence the insincere com- 
pliment, the sinful compliance, the profane witticism, the 
immoderate indulgence, the adulterous eye and sinister 
purpose — pride, too, either gratified or offended, giving 
rise in turn to haughtiness and to hate, to undue elation 
and gloomy jealousy. Whoever has entered the house 
of feasting, can bear witness to its numberless appeals 
to all that is opposed to either lowliness or purity of 
heart ; and, among those who mingle in the favorite 
scenes of worldly pleasure, not one perhaps ever retires 



256 the wise man's contrasts. 

to bis pillow with the conviction that his heart is the 
better in the sight of God. 

Indeed, if any scenes be peculiarly suited to avert 
reflection, and shut out of view all that concerns man's 
well-being, it is such as are implied in the house of 
feasting. Not unfrequently, the express object is to 
enchant the eye, enchain the ear, tempt the appetite, and 
enamor tbe heart, and, by consequence, to exclude what- 
ever tends to moderate indulgence, or serves to restrain 
worldly pleasure : — 

" Let joy be unconfined : 
No sleep till morn, when youth and pleasure meet 
To chase the glowing hours with flying feet !" 

And when this is the case — and it is always so when 
religion is intentionally excluded — then the house of 
feasting is replete with the most insidious temptations ; 
and he who enters it must leave behind him all circum- 
spection and seriousness, and surrender his soul to its 
intoxicating scenes. Hence, the house of feasting tends 
to rivet around the heart the chains of worldliness, to 
deaden the sensibilities to all that is kind in sympathy, 
virtuous in happiness, ennobling in action, or important 
in life. In this house, how often has the heart been 
lifted up to forget God ! has an unconquerable preju- 
dice been imbibed against religion ! has it become the 
aim of one's life to give and receive entertainments, to 
win admiration for self by ministering to the pleasures 
of others! — thus steeling the heart in many instances 
against both the woes and the rights of others, that there 
may be no deficiency in the means of worldly display. 
It was in the house of feasting that Belshazzar praised 



the wise man's coxtrasts. 257 

the gods of gold and of silver, and read his doom ; that 
Sardanapalus was surprised and ruined ; that Ahasuerus 
insulted and dethroned his queen ; that Jehoshaphat was 
seduced by Ahab ; that Alexander killed Clitus ; that 
Baasha was murdered by Zimri ; and that Herod gave 
the order for the execution of a man of God. And still 
it is true that in this house of feasting are many foes to 
man's best interests — not the less dangerous because 
seldom seen and never heeded — deadly foes to his sin- 
cerity, his virtue, his sobriety, his charity, his religion. 
Amid the excitements of company, he is apt to forget 
his responsibility, and, amid the seductions of sense, to 
lose sight of the interests of his soul — intent as he there 
is on pleasures which respect no natural sentiment, and 
preclude all real satisfaction — pleasures which allure 
to deceive, and infatuate to destroy their votaries for 
time and eternity. 

At the present day, there is an intimate connection 
established by the customs of society between this 
house of feasting, and certain houses of worldly amuse- 
ment, and dishonest games, and degrading sensuality; 
houses where life is so represented in scenic acts as to 
unhinge the mind for real life ; where the gambler lies 
in wait to allure the idle, and entrap the unwary ; where 
the strange woman displays her fatal charms ; or where 
the demon of intemperance arrays his damning goblets; 
houses which bear over their respective gateways the 
same inscription : " This is the way to hell, leading 
clown to the chambers of death." 

Hence the greater danger of going once too often to 
this house of feasting, or of ever forgetting while there 
22* 



258 

that life has its duties as well as its pastimes ; that 
though well-timed recreation recruits exhausted strength, 
dissipation destroys it; that while ail the senses may in 
turn be not unlawfully gratified, " the heart should be 
kept with ail diligence." 

Solomon's judgment was the result of his own obser- 
vation and experience ; and though the house of feasting 
to which he referred may have changed its form and 
style since his day, it is still the same in its character 
and tendency. Here it is that the love of dress and 
company, of ease and pleasure, of balls and routs, of 
shows and games, has been indulged — unfitting one for 
either studious thought or rational enjoyment; pervert- 
ing natural sensibility and moral principle ; hopelessly 
enervating mind and body ; and thus developing the 
character of either the pitiable fashionist or the despica- 
ble lounger. Here it is, too, that many a young man 
began his downward career — disregarding instruction, 
despising warnings, abusing his time and talents ; drink- 
ing deeper of the cup of madness, until they who looked 
forward to him as the prop of their declining years, 
bowed their heads in shame and anguish over his un- 
timely grave. Here, too, those tastes and appetites were 
formed which are estranging that man from the duties 
and endearments of home. The evening seldom finds 
him in the midst of his once-loved family. And now the 
night is far spent. — Those little ones have ceased to 
weep in sympathy with a mother's tears — overcome at 
last by the deep slumbers of childhood ; but still she 
weeps, and waits, and watches, and yet he comes not! 
— thus wasting his substance and imbruting his facul- 



THE WJSE MAN'S CONTRASTS. 259 

ties, until they who called him father, shrink from his 
presence ; and she who gave her heart to his keeping, 
mourns in silence over a husband worse than dead — a 
husband buried in his pollutions ! 

On the other hand, the house of mourning tends to 
check and subdue those very emotions to which the 
house of feasting so insidiously contributes. How can 
one plume himself on the insignia of greatness, or on the 
means of luxurious living, when to enter the house of 
mourning is sometimes to behold the evidence that nei- 
ther the honors nor the riches of the world can rescue 
their possessor from the cold grasp of death ? How 
can he be incited " to make provision for the flesh to 
fulfil the lusts thereof," when that body which lust pam- 
pered and vanity adorned, and which now lies before 
him cold and stiff, is about to be consigned to the worms 
of the dust? How can his heart be lifted up to say, 
" My might and my power hath gotten me these," when, 
in another house of mourning, he beholds a fellow-being 
once standing higher and more favored than himself, 
now pining in obscurity and pinched with want ; the 
former owner of a splendid mansion now tenanting the 
poor man's hut? But there, in still another house of 
mourning, is one who has lain for years on a bed of 
pain and languishment. For him day brings no sun- 
shine, and night no quiet rest ; while each revolving 
moon serves only to deepen the gloom that settles around 
his pillow — still mocking the wretched sufferer's hope 
of coming death. In another apartment we see the 
once-admired of all beholders wasting away ; no whis- 



260 

per of praise is heard ; no knee bends in vows of idola- 
trous love ; that eye no longer sparkles; the ro^e has 
left the cheek ; the hue of death begins to settle over the 
once-lovely face. Enter another house, and we may 
see the once so happy wife and mother kneeling down 
with her little ones around the death-bed of their father ; 
or, again, the husband hanging in anguish over his loved 
one's corpse. But hark! what sound is that? 'Tis 
the wail of the widowed mother, for they have come to 
bury her only son ! But other sounds pierce the ear 
as we open the door of another house — sounds like the 
voices of young hearts just tasting their first cup of woe ! 
The mother has followed the father to his last home, and 
the orphans shriek disconsolate. 

What an appalling contrast does this house of mourn- 
ing present to all that ministers to the pride and lusts of 
the natural heart ! Here is squalid poverty, instead of 
the luxuries of wealth ; unhonored obscurity, instead of 
the applauses of the world ; the voice of lamentation and 
woe, instead of the sound of the viol and the harp ; the 
sighs of weakness and the groans of pain, instead of feats 
of strength and peals of merriment ; the piteous tones of 
early orphanage, instead of the gladsome voices and 
innocent sports of childhood's home. Alas ! the pale 
shroud covers the form which fashion had bedecked; 
consumption feeds on the face which beauty had graced 
and pride displayed ; and the spacious hall of pleasure 
is exchanged for the dark, and narrow, and silent house 
of death ! Whether it be viewed as the scene of adver- 
sity, the chamber of sickness, the place of bereavement, 
or the couch of death — what a school for humility, 



THE WISE MAN'S CONTRASTS. 261 

and moderation, and self-denial, this house of mourn- 
ing ! 

It is these passions — " the lust of the flesh, the lust 
of the eyes, and the pride of life" — that deaden our 
virtuous sensibilities, and encase the heart in the ada- 
mant of selfishness. How seldom do we find among 
the votaries of sense any feeling regard for the sons and 
daughters of affliction ! how seldom have they even a 
tear to give to misery ! how soon do they abandon any 
one of their number — though they may have often par- 
taken of his festive cheer, and availed themselves of the 
facilities which his house had afforded for their gratifi- 
cation — the moment he is overtaken hy calamity! and 
how do they shrink from re-entering the house which 
yesterday was the house of feasting, if to-day it has be- 
come the house of death ! 

But while repressing those feelings to which the house 
of feasting gives rise,- the house of jmourning tends to 
soften the heart, and call forth the sensibilities of our 
moral nature into lively and effective exercise. Here it 
is the heart is formed that knows how to feel for others' 
woes, and even longs to minister relief and comfort ; and 
in a world like this, where there is so much sickness, and 
sorrow, and death, what a blessing is such a heart — 
what a welcome visitant within the house of mourning 
is a kind and sympathizing friend — like an angel of 
mercy, shedding light and whispering peace ! Here 
the tear of pity must fall, and the heart be opened to 
every generous and ennobling sentiment. I care not 
how cold and unfeeling one may be ; let him only enter 
the house of mourning — be it the house where the 



262 the wise man's contrasts. 

couch of lingering sickness has been spread — where 
the angel of death has entered, breaking in upon the 
quietness, and breaking up the happiness of that domes- 
tie circle — or over which the cold blasts of misfortune 
have swept, wrecking, as in a night, all that ministered 
to comfort and hope ; let him go and sit down there, 
silently contemplating what humanity is called to bear, 
and, if his heart be not moved, that man can have no 
feeling but for himself : the tie that binds him to a com- 
mon humanity is severed. A monster of selfishness, 
he is prepared to cause misery, rather than lessen his 
own pleasure ; he cares not for the wants and woes of 
others, except so far as either may interfere with the 
gratification of his own desires. Hence it is that ava- 
rice is so detestable a passion, because it kills the heart : 
it can exact its bond without a sigh from the poor, des- 
olate widow, and snatch the last crumb from the pale 
lips of the orphan.,. Hence it is, also, that luxury has 
no sympathy for suffering humanity, because avarice 
hides itself under the purple garb, and covets the means 
of faring sumptuously every day. 

But what reflections are these, rising so naturally, as 
we enter the house of mourning ? ' What if my prop- 
erty should be wrecked, my comforts scattered on the 
winds, my loves torn from me ? Who is it that has 
made me to differ? why am I placed in such enviable 
circumstances ? The time may come when I shall need 
all the kindness and sympathy now demanded of me — 
must come, when I too shall bid adieu to earth, and go 
down to the dark, cold sepulchre.' 

And thus it is that the house of mourning induces 



THE WISE MAN'S CONTRASTS. 263 

serious, salutary thought. We cannot go there without 
encountering some form amid the various ills to which 
we ourselves are subject; without being reminded of 
our dependence, our frailty, our mutability, our mor- 
tality ; without a renewed conviction of the vanity of 
the world, the worth of the soul, and the unutterable 
importance of timely attention to our highest interest. 

We may see there a touching exhibition of the power 
of our blessed religion — how it can sustain one under 
the pressure of earthly ill, compensate for the absence 
of worldly comforts, and cheer the heart amid the sorest 
trials. I have sometimes entered the house of mourn- 
ing with an embarrassed step, feeling my impotence to 
assuage the mourner's grief. There dwelt one who but 
a few days ago was the loved and loving wife — her lit- 
tle ones around her, scarce conscious of their loss, but 
weeping because their mother wept ; yet, amid the tears 
that fell so fast, there was the rainbow of hope. Sad and 
desolate as she appeared, she was not alone, nor were 
her children fatherless. God was with her, fortifying 
her soul by his faithful word of promise, and warming 
her heart with the sentiments of renewed devotedness 
to him, by shedding abroad there the peace-giving and 
sanctifying influences of his blessed Spirit. 

Again, have I approached the bedside of the dying; 
and while I thought how soon he would take his leave 
of family and friends, and wing his way to worlds un- 
known ; and as 1 looked to see his bosom heave, and 
the tear fall — lo ! all was peace, and the dying man 
passed away rejoicing in the hope of the glory of God ! 

And, again, I have gone where but lately all was 



2G4 the wise man's contrasts. 

competency and comfort. How changed the scene ! — 
yet a smile welcomed my approach. Amid the pres- 
sure of sudden reverse, I heard the language of sweet 
submission : " The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken 
away ; blessed be the name of the Lord." I felt that 
the peace of God kept their hearts ; for, under all the 
trials of their lot, they poured forth the voice " of prayer 
and supplication with thanksgiving." Bitter as may be 
the voice of lamentation and woe which breaks on the 
ear as we enter the house of mourning, we may some- 
times hear it blended with the notes of thanksgiving and 
praise ! Deep as is the gloom which shrouds that house, 
it is relieved by a light from heaven ! 

In other instances, we may behold the sad want of 
religion — in the mourner's refusal to be comforted; in 
the murmurings and curses which no considerations can 
repress ; or in the agony and despair pictured in the face 
of the dying sinner. 

But thus it is that the house of mourning, from its 
resistless appeals to serious thought, and from its not un- 
frequent association with the sustaining power of true 
religion, or the deep wretchedness of afflicted world- 
lings, becomes the place of incipient preparation for the 
vicissitudes of life, the solemnities of death, and the 
issues of eternity. 

Solomon was right, therefore, in his conclusion — 
unless there be no higher happiness than such as this 
world affords ; unless the vicissitudes of life be the re- 
sult of a blind chance, and death the ending of this spir- 
itual being ! But who can deliberately take this ground ? 
Let the skeptic brood over his dark thoughts, and the 



THE WISE MAN'S CONTRASTS. 265 

epicure pursue his fancied good, but sure am I that man 
was made for some higher purpose than the mere play 
and revel of the senses. What mean these drooping 
spirits, these withered sensibilities, these evanescent 
joys, these dying comforts '? How happens it that even 
a speedy experience of the world so often extorts the 
mournful testimony — "All is vanity and vexation of 
spirit?" And why, in the midst of his darling plans — 
while surrounded by every siren form, and enjoying all 
the pleasures which the varying combinations of wealth 
and fancy can secure — does paleness at times steal 
over his face, and his heart sink and die within him? 
Worldly happiness is but a dream : our loves, and 
hopes, and joys, are as delusive as the gilded forms 
that visit our slumbers during the silence of the night. 

Go to the house of mourning, and see the winding 
up of all the scenes of the house of feasting ; see there 
what a comment God has made on the feast, the song, 
and the dance ; see the evidence that neither the riches, 
nor the honors, nor the pleasures of the world, can se- 
cure man's happiness — that he cannot be miserable who 
has God for his portion, and that he must be without 
peace who is without God in the world ! Yes ; listen 
to that plaintive voice — 'tis the voice of affectionate 
solicitude : " Love not the world, neither the things 
that are in the world." 

Hark, again ! — a deeper sound breaks on the ear — 
'tis the funeral knell : " Be ye also ready: for in such 
an hour as ye think not the Son of Tnan cometh." 

As the result of his contrasts of life, " the wise man's 
23 



266 

heart is in the house of mourning" — there, to improve 
its lessons, or to sympathize with its inmates. Even 
while in the house of feasting, he forgets not that the 
house of mourning is hard by ; and thus preserves that 
seriousness of disposition which is so proper as well as 
important in a state of things where we are either daily 
sinning and suffering ourselves, or forced to witness the 
sins and sufferings of others ; and thus, also, amid all 
the good things of this life, he aims to use the world 
without thankless elation or immoderate indulgence. As 
though he should say : * Time was when I was thought- 
less and frivolous, having no feeling separate from the 
gratification of self — no purpose apart from worldly 
gains and pleasures. Now, with what different thoughts 
do I look on the world, and with what higher sentiments 
do I regard my being ! It is a serious thing to live — 
a yet more serious thing to die ! What awaits me I 
know not, nor would I venture to predict. " Have I 
received good at the hands of God, and shall I not 
receive evil ?" My house may yet become the house 
of mourning ; but whatever the cup which may be pre- 
paring for me, may I cultivate those sentiments of trust 
and hope in God which will enable me in the hour of 
trial to say, " The cup which my Father hath given 
me, shall I not drink of it?" This house, which I call 
my own, is not my abiding-place. It was erected, in 
God's good providence, merely to lodge me on my way 
to eternity. It will ere long become the house of mourn- 
ing — mourning for me! Let me so walk before my 
household as to leave behind me the memory of the 
righteous ; so depart, that they whom I leave behind, 



THE WISE MAN'S CONTRASTS. 267 

mourn not without the hope of ultimately meeting me 
" in a house not made with hands, eternal in the heav- 
ens !" ' 

But the heart of fools is in the house of mirth ; that 
is, they think, they dream of pleasure, and all their talk 
is of what they have enjoyed, or the joys they antici- 
pate. They have no heart but for sport and gayety — 
for the humorous joke, the amusing story, the lively 
song, the boon companion — for eating and drinking — 
blithesome days and merry nights. Pleasure is the end 
and aim of all their plans and movements ; and thus 
their way is their folly : this shows them to be devoid 
of wisdom, because they have left out of account their 
dependence on God for "life, and breath, and all 
things ;" because they vainly think that " God will not 
see nor regard them ;" because they, too, must meet 
with disappointment, and care, and trouble ; nor can 
they entirely shut out from view the evils of life, or ward 
off the fear of death. They, too, must die ! and death 
may come upon them in the midst of their sinful joys, and 
find them unprepared to meet their God in judgment. 

I know that religion wears a melancholy aspect to the 
earth-bound mind, as if " she were clothed in deep 
mourning, with a coffin for her writing-desk, and a skull 
for an inkstand ;" and some of my readers may be in- 
clined to think that, by such a train of reflections, I have 
only deepened the gloom with which the subject is nat- 
urally invested in the view of all " the lovers of pleas- 
ure." Were this the fact, however, it would not lessen 
its urgent importance, nor render its neglect in any wise 
the less hazardous. No love of pleasure can obviate its 



268 THE wise man's contrasts. 

imperative claims ; nor can one's levity and folly make 
it a less serious thing to die and face the Judge ! Why 
should it be a gloomy subject, but because we are in 
love with sense and sin ? How can it be, unless we are 
indifferent to God's favor, and averse from our highest 
good? What, indeed, is the design of all true religion, 
but to secure to us deliverance from that gloom which 
naturally accompanies our thoughts of affliction and 
death? — so that we may welcome afflictions as the 
tokens of a Father's love — welcome crosses as the 
badges of our heaven-born faith, and even exult in the 
promise and prospect of a new and endless life ! 



THE SON OF GOD. 269 



THE SON OF GOD. 

Had we mingled with the throng around the cross, 
and witnessed the miraculous phenomena which nature 
exhibited when " Jesus cried with a loud voice, and 
gave up the ghost," in all probability ours would have 
been the same testimony that burst from the lips of the 
Roman centurion. But no testimony from nature's 
works, nor sign from heaven, is indispensable to the 
conviction that Jesus is the Son of God : his character 
indubitably attests the divinity of his origin. 

In passing, therefore, from Old-Testament times to 
the days of Christ and his apostles, it will be necessary, 
to the more effective prosecution of our object in this 
work, to delineate his character ; for unless it can be 
shown that, in one important respect, the past has no 
parallel in the present, it cannot be proved that He to 
whom the patriarchs and prophets referred, did come in 
the flesh ; or that the Christian oracles are of equal 
authority with the Hebrew Scriptures. 

We are aware of the difficulty, and that we may be 
only exposing ourselves to the charge of presumption. 
His character should be drawn, as his praise is hymned, 
by loftier spirits. But, problematical as success may be, 
we may not desist from the attempt. It is the theme 
of fond contemplation ; the subject of never- tiring and 

23* 



270 THE SON OF GOD. 

instructive study ; the model which imparts sublimity to 
the humblest purpose that aspires to imitate. 

As we turn from the perusal of some of Plutarch's 
" Lives," pained as we have been by the conviction of 
defects and weaknesses in the most renowned of mor- 
tals, what a relief is afforded to the mind by the memo- 
rabilia of Him who was " holy, harmless, undefiled, and 
separate from sinners !" When the heart is oppressed 
by the various revolting aspects that pervade the whole 
field of human character, how delightful to repose the 
eye on the only spot that, by the freshness and depth of 
its verdure, so amply compensates for the dreariness of 
the moral waste ! When, too, the indefinite and ab- 
stract lineaments of philosophic virtue fail to attract and 
animate, how does the character of Jesus, embodied as 
it is in living, natural representation, tend to warm and 
to quicken, while it guides the spirit that is in man to 
the source and centre of all perfection ! 

The Jews, at the period we contemplate, had lost 
both their purity and their freedom. In the grossness 
of their views, they overlooked the spiritual design of 
their institutions, and regarded the Messiah of their 
prophecies and promises as a temporal deliverer. They 
had often been conquered, and as often the God of their 
fathers had achieved their freedom by some chosen ser- 
vant : and now, though again enslaved, ,and that to a 
nation whose wings overspread the world, yet the expe- 
rience of the past taught them not to despair ; while the 
recorded predictions of ancient prophets imparted to their 
bosoms the life and vigor of a hope that upheld them in 
their degradation, and consoled them in their miseries. 



THE SON OF GOD. 271 

The fulness of time had come : expectation was at 
its height. Imagination had gathered around the com- 
ing Messiah the insignia of royalty, the splendors of 
greatness, and the terrors of military conquest. Ambi- 
tion beheld Judea already rising from the dust of her 
thraldom, slaking her revenge in the blood of her foes, 
advancing over all opposition, and triumphantly assuming 
the dominion of the world. 

During this their state of feverish preparation, a re- 
markable star appeared, attracting the notice of certain 
eastern sages, and guiding them, in their search for the 
new-born king of the Jews, to the town of Bethlehem. 
But what was there in the condition of the infant Jesus 
to betoken so high a destiny ? Yet he claimed, on arri- 
ving at manhood, the character of the long-expected 
Messiah. True, he was not the only one who made 
such an extraordinary claim. No time could have been 
more favorable to ambitious pretensions : it needed but 
shrewdness enough to discern the signs of the times, 
and adroitness enough to adapt one's appearance and 
movements to the views and wishes of the people, to 
secure their credence and enlist their aid. 

Hence impostors arose in succession, each aiming 
to establish and exalt himself by succumbing to the na- 
tional sentiment, and flattering vulgar prejudices ; and 
thus insuring their ultimate defeat, by the very means 
which infatuated both them and their followers with the 
hope of speedy success. But what could have been so 
contrary to their preconceptions of the Messiah as the 
character which Jesus presented — so fraught with dis- 
appointment to all their fondly-cherished hopes, as the 



272 THE SON OF GOD. 

sentiments which he avowed ? Instead of an heroic 
leader, he was a spiritual teacher ; instead of a warrior, 
a peace-maker ; instead of having the trappings of regal 
dignity, and the ostentatious appendages of proud great- 
ness, he seemed a meek and lowly man : and, so far 
from identifying himself with the cause of his country, 
though she was sighing for deliverance from the Roman 
yoke, he assumed the unwonted position — "My king- 
dom is not of this world." The Jew had no thought 
of duty beyond the limits of his own land, and no ideas 
of greatness separate from the wonted earth-born schemes 
of territorial conquest and military renown : but Jesus 
looked out from his obscure birthplace, to survey the 
dark regions of the earth ; and, in view of the nations 
which had been so long enslaved to error, and envel- 
oped in the darkness of a moral night, declared himself 
to be the light of the world ! 

Alexander sighed for more worlds to conquer, and 
many a Csesar has madly aimed to wield the sceptre of 
universal dominion. Napoleon even aspired to fill all 
the thrones of Europe with kings bearing his own name : 
but ambition, amid its brightest visions of glory, had 
never dreamed of undermining the consolidated opin- 
ions of ages, and of converting the world into a spiritual 
temple. 

Firm in the belief of national deities, the Gentile 
doubted neither the reality nor the sufficiency of his 
country's religion, nor thought it applicable to the con- 
dition of any other people. Hence, when the oracle at 
Delphi was asked, "what rites or worship were most 
acceptable to the gods," the answer was, " Those which 



THE SON OF GOD. 273 

are legally established in each city." Thus, an ac- 
knowledged principle of mutual toleration secured the 
religious concord of the Gentile world ; while the Jews 
were restrained from interference by the haughtiness of 
their national sentiments. In their view, all heathen 
nations were unworthy of notice ; and if on no condition 
they would admit within the sacred precincts of the 
Mount the idolater's unhallowed foot, much less would 
they think of abolishing their ritual, and demolishing 
their temple, in order to establish a religion in which 
the Gentile would be their equal — alike the children 
of the same God, and the heirs of a common inherit- 
ance. 

In all these respects, however, Jesus, though born a 
Jew, betrayed no sympathy with the Jewish mind. 
Though -reared amid those influences of humble life 
which naturally incline the youthful mind to imbibe im- 
pressions from without, and to defer to existing author- 
ity, yet was he independent in his views, and thought 
for himself but to disdain compliance with Jewish preju- 
dices, and mortify the pride of national ambition. With- 
out intercourse with the learned, or access to books — 
without either riches or patronage — he formed a scheme 
as sublime as it was new : that of delivering the world 
from the bondage of sin and error, and uniting all na- 
tions in the bonds of a common faith and hope — even 
faith in his mission, and hope in his salvation ! Truly, 
the most obscure rustic might as readily, and, to all 
human view, as reasonably, have thought of uprooting 
the everlasting hills, or of changing the tides of the 
ocean. 



274 THE SON OF GOD. 

So foreign from the mental views of that period was 
the conception of a new and universal religion, that 
even they who regarded Christ as the Messiah were 
slow to comprehend the nature of his kingdom ; nor 
did they at the close of his ministry fully take in the 
grand idea which his gospel unfolds. His mighty works 
might disarm skepticism ; but, original and sublime as 
was his purpose, it could not overcome the blinding 
power of bigotry. Multitudes might throng his pres- 
ence, and not a few attach themselves to his person ; 
still, in his freedom from all local views and temporary 
suggestions — in his superiority to the spirit which 
breathed through the looks and words of his country- 
men — he was alone — as it were a solitary being, dwel- 
ling in his own high thoughts and solemn purposes; 
neither daunted by the opposition of his enemies, nor 
discouraged by the dulness of his followers ; under all 
circumstances retaining the consciousness which from 
the first he evinced, of sustaining a peculiar relation to 
both God and man : hence, speaking as never man spoke 
— without either arrogance or diffidence, affectation or 
precipitance — calmly, yet decidedly ; concisely, yet 
explicitly — his every word and action betokening a mis- 
sion of vast import, an object without a parallel. 

As he had no human sympathy in his mysterious sor- 
rows, so he took counsel with no one ; and though all 
his acts resulted from his own unaided thoughts, yet 
was he never necessitated to recall or undo any thing 
he had once said or done. Avoiding no searching sus- 
picion, answering every incredulous inquiry, ofttimes 
anticipating the expression of human thought — always 



THE SON OF GOD. 275 

uttering his views without deliberation or hesitancy, and, 
under all circumstances, acting out his irrepressible con- 
victions of duty, — he placed the truth of what he said 
on authority, and left his deeds to speak for themselves. 
Before the light of heaven, and in the face of the world, 
he laid legitimate claim to the Messiahship : " If ye 
believe not that I am He, ye shall die in your sins." 

It is natural to think that nothing of moment can be 
achieved without the patronage of authority or the aid 
of wealth : hence, in all human projects, the counte- 
nance of rulers is solicited, or pecuniary means are col- 
lected; while the influence of rank and fashion is indis- 
pensable to the spread of any corrupt form of religion. 
This is the well-known policy of the world, and, where- 
soever or by whomsoever adopted, it designates the man 
and the movement to be of the world. But Jesus, 
though his friends were confined to the illiterate and 
obscure, did neither court the favor nor fear the influence 
of the great. There is no instance of that fawning def- 
erence to pomp and power which invariably character- 
izes men of sinister aims ; yet there is no evidence that 
he ever faltered in his purpose, or fainted under dis- 
couragement. Bold and stupendous as was his design, 
he looked forward to its accomplishment with a confi- 
dence which nothing short of actual prescience could 
inspire or justify. Bigotry, in all its heartless and dark 
projects — infidelity, in all its envenomed and ruthless 
forms, would be arrayed against his claims ; but his 
right to reign king of the Jews would be only the more 
apparent and the more generally admitted. The pow- 
ers of thrones, the intellectual and moral habits of the 



276 THE SON OF GOD. 

world, would be called forth in opposition to his design, 
only to be defeated with signal overthrow. His own 
reputation would be assailed, his motives impeached, his 
friends scattered like sheep ; nay, his own life must be 
sacrificed : but that gospel of his would go on conquering 
and to conquer ! All this he distinctly foresaw; and, 
instead of holding out to his disciples any prospect of 
worldly grandeur, or even a promise of exemption from 
worldly ill, he gave them to understand what would be 
the consequences to themselves of adherence to his per- 
son ; how they would be hated of all men for his sake — 
persecuted and put to death. Scrutinize his course as 
we may, we shall look in vain for any of the arts by 
which impostors invariably aim to delude the multitude, 
or for any of those motives by which men engaged in a 
forlorn cause contrive to sustain, if not their own, at 
least the spirit of their followers. He foretells, nay, 
calmly depicts those acts of violence which, to all hu- 
man view, were to frustrate his plans — involving his 
disciples with himself in infamy and ruin ! ' There, on 
yonder hill, is the cross erected for Him whom you re- 
gard as your Messiah! — that, the ignominious and 
accursed death which I am doomed to suffer ; but my 
death will be the life of the world. " The Son of man 
must be crucified and slain, but the third day he shall 
rise again." ' 

Thus, in his allusions to the tragic scenes of Calvary, 
he showed in only a more striking light that neither the 
powers of earth nor of hell could shake his purpose, or 
impair his confidence in the ultimate triumph of his 
cause. It was this, which, in despite of the treachery 



THE SON OF GOD. 277 

of friends, the malice of enemies, the ingratitude of 
those whom he had blessed, bore him on toward his 
object; this, which, amid the humiliating scenes of his 
trial, imparted to his character an unparalleled degree 
of moral elevation. 

But if, from these views of the Messiahship of Christ, 
we turn to other aspects of his history, we shall perceive 
the same striking contrariety to the temper of his times. 

No feelings were more common to both the Jew and 
the Gentile than pride and vanity. That greatness 
which is founded in humbleness of mind, and rises in 
proportion to self-abasement, was as remote from the 
conceptions of either as from their character. Without 
a suspicion of its flagrant inconsistency with man's con- 
dition and relations, pride was universally indulged ; 
while, in the wide-spread deference that was paid to 
rank and riches, to intellect and learning, to strength 
and beauty, public opinion sanctioned the exhibition of 
vanity. But wherein did Jesus betray any indications 
of this spirit, or any sympathy with its gratified indul- 
gence ? It was reserved for him to unfold an example 
of humility such as the world had never seen nor im- 
agined, and that, under circumstances which, we had 
almost said, might have justified emotions of pride. 
Announced to the world in the songs of angels — as the 
subject of prophecy, the antitype of institutions, and of 
a long succession of illustrious personages ; receiving 
homage from the loftiest spirits, and proclaimed the be- 
loved Son of God by a voice from heaven ; possessing 
wisdom more profound than ever man attained, and 
power which controlled the elements — who but Christ, 

9 J. 



278 THE SON OF GOD. 

might be excused in entertaining lofty sentiments of 
himself, or in assuming a superior bearing among men ? 
yet who was ever further removed from vainglory, or 
so devoid of all feelings allied to self-complacent exul- 
tation ? 

He rose from the poorest condition, yet was he not 
uplifted. Hosannas greeted his approach, and garments 
were strewed along his pathway ; but the momentary 
applause of the multitude wrought no change in his 
demeanor. Still he trode life's lowliest walks, and as- 
sociated with the children of poverty and sorrow. 

The same modesty and simplicity characterized his 
manners and address, with the same freedom from arro- 
gance and ostentation that adorned the wisdom of his 
teachings. Studiously avoiding both personal display 
and worldly honors, he dwelt in a despised place — 
refused to be called Master — rejected the flattery when 
he was called " good" — and even commanded his deeds 
of mercy to be kept secret. When sought by his coun- 
trymen, that they might place him on a throne, he re- 
tired to the desert. Where any one else would have 
been intensely anxious — painfully awake to the sound 
of approaching footsteps — he "laid aside his garment, 
girded himself with a towel, and washed his disciples' 
feet." Even when condemned at the bar of the San- 
hedrim, he voluntarily submitted to the humiliating 
sentence*! 

His meekness, too, is equally remarkable. Vindic- 
tive sentiments, still so prevalent, were more than sanc- 
tioned — were applauded — at the period of the Messiah. 
" An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth," was one 



THE SON OF GOD. 279 

of the traditionary maxims of the Jews ; while the Gen- 
tile could not refrain from cherishing a motive of action 
which eloquence had emblazoned and religion deified. 

But behold the Moralist and Reformer of the world ! 
Not only did he enjoin, and that on peculiar grounds, 
the duties of kindness, forbearance, and forgiveness — 
he exemplified these principles of his religion amid the 
severest trials to which humanity is subject. Oppressed 
by the vilest ingratitude, loaded with the most wanton 
abuse, he nevertheless bore all with unruffled meekness. 
Though his character was defamed, his actions pervert- 
ed, and his words misconstrued, the malice of his ene- 
mies served but to reflect in a stronger light his superi- 
ority to insult and injury ; for " when he was reviled, 
he reviled not again, and when he suffered he threat- 
ened not." 

He is exposed to the contradiction of sinners, calum- 
niated as a wine-bibber, a sabbath-breaker, a madman 
— he is even denounced as a devil ! How eager they 
are to cast him down from yonder precipice ! even his 
brethren reject him — he has not where to lay his head ! 
But all this was suffered without murmuring or despon- 
dency. On no occasion can we detect any sign of re- 
sentment, or overhear any reproachful or unkind expres- 
sion. Even amid the mockings and buffetings of his 
persecutors, he opened not his mouth : and, when 
stretched in agony upon the ignominious cross, he 
prayed for the forgiveness of his murderers ; and im- 
parted to a wretched malefactor, who was crucified by 
his side, an assurance of pardoned sin and immortal 
glory ! 



280 THE SON OF GOD. 

Should it be asked what, in a word, was the essential 
and peculiar element of Christ's character, we answer, 
benevolence — full, free, disinterested, and immutable! 
This pre-eminently distinguished him from the best of 
his age and nation. It was such as the world had never 
seen, nor will ever see, unless Christ himself should 
again appear in the flesh. Not that the virtue of benev- 
olence was then unknown or neglected ; but it was 
restrained and depressed by partial and contracted no- 
tions. There were the recognised offices of kin, of 
friendship, and of patriotism ; and there had been among 
different people occasional instances of warm and de- 
voted friendship, and self-sacrificing patriotism ; but all 
such instances, though emblazoned on the page of his- 
tory, fade away before the resplendent lustre of Christ's 
generous spirit, shining as it did through his every sen- 
timent and action, and irradiating as with a sunbeam 
man's relations and duties to his neighbor. Without 
reference to the distinctions of country, of rank, of rela- 
tionship, or of friendship, he went about doing good. 
Neither Jew nor Gentile as such, but as man, was the 
object of his love : the hated Samaritan, no less than 
the contemptuous Judean ; the despised publican as 
well as the proud Pharisee — not the remotest stranger 
was disregarded, nor the bitterest enemy excluded — 
embracing as his love did all the members, respecting 
as his mission did all the interests of the human race. 

Hence, though born in the most bigoted age of the 
most bigoted nation, he never imbibed a prejudice nor 
entertained an illiberal sentiment. Inflexible in his at- 
tachment to the great principles of morality and of piety, 



THE SON OF GOD. 281 

but as far removed from the blinding influence of selfish 
passion as from the contractedness of ignorance — when 
did he ever show any bigoted regard to the doctrines 
of his nation, or to the peculiarities of a sect ? What 
sentiment did he either embrace or reject, because it 
had been received or opposed by the people ? So far 
from public opinion having led him to adopt any cus- 
tom it sanctioned, even its denunciations could not 
deter him from practices which he deemed innocent. 
Godlike benevolence at once impelled and enabled him 
to withstand the narrow spirit of his nation, and to do 
good unto all men without partiality. To this, the gra- 
cious character of his miracles bears resistless testimony. 
Whose eyes were not opened, whose leprosy was not 
cleansed — though he mio-ht have been either a friend 
or a foe, a scribe or a Pharisee, a Jew or Samaritan ? 
He wrought miracles in behalf of some whose enmity 
he knew would continue to the last with undiminished 
virulence. 

Malicious as was the opposition he encountered, he 
did not desist. Keen as was the ingratitude he daily 
experienced, he was not overcome — ever moving on 
his undisturbed way, like the sun amid encompassing 
clouds and raging tempests. 

When he approached the city whose ingratitude had 
been perpetuated in the names of its slaughtered proph- 
ets, and now was doubly enhanced by the disbelief of 
his own mighty works — the injuries which it had 
heaped on him, and the means which it was devising 
to deprive him of his life — he forgot his own danger, 
so absorbed was he in its approaching destruction : he 



282 THE SON OF GOD. 

even wept over the guilty, abandoned spot, and cried 
with inexpressible tenderness : " O Jerusalem, Jerusa- 
lem, which killest the prophets and stonest them that 
are sent unto thee ; how often would I have gathered 
thy children together, as a hen doth gather her brood 
under her wings; and ye would not!" On another 
occasion, when he looked out on the multitude, " he 
had compassion on them, because they were scattered, 
and were as sheep without a shepherd." On entering 
the gate of Nain, he met the funeral of a "young man, 
ivho was the only son of his mother, and she a widow." 
Jesus was moved to compassion, and said unto her, 
" Weep not." He resuscitated the young man, and de- 
livered him back to his mother. Nay, while he himself 
was expiring amid the agonies of crucifixion, he forgot 
not the distress and desolate situation of his mother, 
and made provision for her protection and support. 
Can the records of history present an example of such 
benevolence ? 

He came to restore in man the lost image of his God 
— to diffuse universal happiness, by inculcating the 
principles of a pure and peaceful religion. Whatever 
objections might be urged against the nature of his au- 
thoritative requirements, it must be admitted that he 
had no private end to answer : this is demonstrable by 
his impartial censures and commendations ; by the bold- 
ness and sincerity of his reproofs ; by his plain, unam- 
biguous speech, equally remote from either servile flat- 
tery or sinister reserve. When did he hesitate to arraign 
the vices and expose the hypocrisy of the scribes and 
Pharisees? or when did he fail to rebuke the faithless- 



THE SON OF GOD. 283 

ness of his disciples ? If he failed not to expose the 
errors of his foes, he overlooked not the weaknesses 
and faults of his friends ; if severe on the former, it was 
because he was just to the latter. Insensible to the 
praise of man, he betrayed no dread of popular odium. 
What to him was the world's applause or obloquy, com- 
pared to the interests of the lost whom he came to seek 
and to save ? Neither coveting popular favor nor dread- 
ing the world's frowns, he declared the truth, not in one 
manner to his friends and in another to his enemies, but 
alike to both, as to rational and immortal beings, ame- 
nable to the Judge of quick and dead. 

Bent on accomplishing his beneficent errand, though 
it might lead him through toils and trials, not even the 
most appalling dangers could shake his constancy. 
Wonderful to. relate, he came to live and to die for his 
enemies ! Yes ; and he did die, as he had lived, for 
his enemies ! This is the finishing stroke in the char- 
acter of our blessed Lord : it places the crown on his 
head. Could we detect the faintest trace of selfishness, 
how would it mar the beauty of his aspect, and dim the 
glory of his cross ! 

We might advert to other traits ; for he united in him- 
self every possible excellence, and each in the highest 
degree. It was this union of seemingly irreconcilable 
but essentially harmonious qualities that constituted the 
singular perfection of his virtue. In humanity, the 
stronger virtues are seldom without austerity, and the 
softer seldom without feebleness ; while no man ever 
embodied in himself the active with the contemplative 
virtues, and the heroic with the tender. As we explore 



284 THE SON OF GOD. 

the records of the past, various characters rise up, and 
in turn challenge our admiration for their noble quali- 
ties or amiable sentiments ; it may be, our reverence 
for their love of truth and adherence to right — the tri- 
umphs of principle, or the flights of piety : but look 
where we may, we find but one Jesus ! In him, there is 
no approach to any of those infirmities, inconsistencies, 
or defects that impair the force, mar the symmetry, and 
betray the incompleteness of all human virtue. 

His spirituality did not preclude his intercourse with 
the world, nor did his love of retirement interfere with his 
duties to society. If he spoke of great things, it was 
with ease and simplicity. If he condescended to min- 
gle with sinners in the market-place, or to sit at meat 
with publicans, it was with purity and dignity. Zealous 
without rashness, so was he prudent without timidity. 
Indignant at sin, he yet could compassionate the sinner. 
Ardent in his feelings, he ever maintained self-posses- 
sion. Intent with unmitigated urgency on the great 
errand of his life, yet no opposition perturbed the tran- 
quillity of his mind. Still more remarkable — expan- 
sive as was his .benevolence, it did not impair the force 
of his private ties ; nor was the authority which he 
claimed as the Saviour of men, at variance with the 
love and obedience which he owed as a son. How 
many miracles did he perform for the supply of others' 
wants, yet not one for his own ! How superior was he to 
the interests and pleasures of the world, yet gentle in 
manners, and free from austerity ! How exposed on 
every hand to the strongest temptations, yet continently 
keeping himself " unspotted from the world !" 



THE SON OF GOD. 285 

The sole reason of that hatred which he ceaselessly 
encountered was, the disappointment of Jewish ambi- 
tion ; and the only charge which his nation preferred 
against him was, his prophecy respecting the speedy 
destruction of their temple and state. He led a life of 
toil, privation, and suffering, without a murmur ; he 
submitted to a death of shame, desertion, and agony, 
without a struggle. Nailed to the ignominious tree, his 

GO O ' 

last breath was sublime mercy ! 

To whom shall we liken him ? What philosopher 
has equalled the sublimity of his maxims, or the pro- 
fundity of his wisdom ? What moralist has laid so 
deep the foundations of virtue, or reared so high the 
standard of morals ? What legislator has spoken to 
every heart, in a single line, adapted to every class and 
every clime ? 

Compared with Jesus, are not the Zenos of antiquity 
impure and debased ? were not their priests licentious 
and tyrannical, and their philanthropists selfish and con- 
tracted ? Yea, in comparison with Jesus, we may not 
except even Moses ; much less Zoroaster or Pvthagoras. 

Whose religion is so spiritual in its nature — so intel- 
ligible and reasonable in its principles — so benign in 
its tendency ? And where is the sage who could so 
live and so die, without weakness and without ostenta- 
tion ? " Truly this was the Son of God !" 

How else can we account for his character ? Is it 
not inexplicable by any principle of human nature? As 
an effect, it must have had some adequate cause ; and 
where shall we find such a cause but in an agency su- 
perior to man's? 



286 THE SON OF GOD. 

There have been those whom the world with one 
accord has denominated good, and through all coming 
ages will eulogize as great ; but if they cannot stand in 
comparison with Jesus, could he have been an insane 
enthusiast, an ambitious sectary, or an arrant impostor? 
It is impossible for human nature in its present lapsed 
state to attain the perfection or rival the example which 
Christ exhibited. Could he, then, have been no more 
than an earth-born man? 

To say that this character never had an embodied 
representation, were not only to do violence to all the 
laws of testimony, but to involve us in the greater diffi- 
culty of attempting to account for its imaginary exist- 
ence. How came these fishermen of Galilee to deline- 
ate such a character, if Jesus Christ never lived ? 
Whence did they gather suitable material for a mythi- 
cal representation ? where obtain their model ? Hea- 
then antiquity, amid the multitude of its illustrious 
men and imperishable records, presented none. Hea- 
then philosophy, notwithstanding its repeated efforts 
to paint human perfection, failed miserably ; and even 
now, unless clandestinely availing itself of the light of 
Revelation, infidelity, in its representations of wisdom 
and virtue, stamps but an image of its own deformity. 
Nor in their conceptions could the evangelists have been 
aided by their own Scriptures : they record no faultless 
character ; and even the combined excellencies of all 
the Old-Testament worthies could not afford material 
for the fabrication of such a history as this of Christ. 

How is it possible, then, that in an age of moral dark- 
ness, these unlettered men should have invented a char- 



THE SON OF GOD. 287 

acter which has defied the scrutiny of malice ; which 
constantly unfolds greater excellence and beauty in pro- 
portion to the expansion and refinement of our moral 
sentiments ; which cannot be surpassed in the utmost 
reach of our conceptions ! Such delicacy of moral sen- 
timent as they must have had who drew this character, 
whether it be real or not, seems not very consistent with 
a deliberate attempt to palm a lie on mankind. Impos- 
tors originate the idea of the most exalted character 
that ever existed upon earth ? Tell us, ye who boast 
of reason and of common sense, which lays himself the 
more open to the charge of credulity — the Christian, or 
the infidel ? 

On the supposition, however, that this perfect char- 
acter had been represented in general description, or 
loose and indefinite panegyric, we might wilh philosophic 
propriety refer its origin to the inspiration of genius : 
but that four persons, though respectively writing at the 
interval of years, should retain the same recollections, 
and unite in the same views of this character ; that they 
should exhibit him to whom it is ascribed in different 
relations, amid friends and foes, in public and in pri- 
vate — amid alternate scenes of quiet and trial — in con- 
versation by turns with the rich and the poor, the high 
and the low, and on as great a diversity of subjects ; 
yet, that they should be guilty of no inconsistency, no 
appearance of effort, of concealment, or of exaggeration 
— presenting a plain, frank, unartistic narrative, and 
preserving through all its varied scenes this same Jesus 
acting on the same principles, with reference to the same 
ends, at all times, in every situation, from the beginning 



288 THE SON OF GOD. 

to the aid of his ministry ; in short, that four persons — 
no matter what their motive — unless they were penetra- 
ted by the conviction of having seen the Lord, — should 
have collusively united to frame such a narrative as this, 
is more incredible, a thousand times more inconceivable, 
than that Christ himself should have furnished the sub- 
ject of it. In fact, the evangelical narratives, in their 
various and distinct yet harmonious features, bear marks 
of genuineness and authenticity so striking and inimitable, 
that, if fictitious, the inventor, as even Rousseau admitted, 
" would be a more astonishing character than the hero." 

Should we now institute an inquisition respecting the 
motives of the evangelists, it would be impossible to 
detect any that could have led them to fabricate such a 
record as that with which they have furnished us. To 
suppose that it might have been fictitious, is only to 
subject ourselves to the impracticable task of accounting 
for the fact of its having been received as true, when 
there was every facility for the detection of a fraud, and 
the strongest possible motives for exposing any duplicity. 
The simple ordinances of baptism and the Lord's sup- 
per are confirmation strong — imperishable monuments 
— of both the fact and the design of Christ's advent. 

His character, therefore, constitutes an argument of 
resistless force in favor of our holy religion ; or, to say 
the least, one of equal weight with physical evidence. 
Let Hume vaunt himself on his philosophic acumen, and 
Gibbon declaim on the efficiency of second causes; — 
though it were possible to set aside the argument from 
miracles, by opposing experience to testimony ; and 
that from the prophecies, by impeaching their dates, 



THE SOX OF GOD. 289 

or resolving them into shrewd conjectures — still, the 
character of Jesus will furnish a position which no in- 
genuity can undermine, no reasoning invalidate, no 
prejudice mistake. It stamps on Christianity the re- 
splendent signet of Divinity. It re-echoes in Reason's 
ear the very voice that broke through the overshadowing 
cloud on the Mount of Transfiguration — " This is my 
beloved Son : hear him /" 

We are aware of the tendency of certain schools of 
philosophy to deify humanity : but he who can contem- 
plate the loveliness of Christ's spotless virtue ; dwell 
on his weighty sayings, or listen to his tones of mingled 
softness and majesty ; see the dead man come forth from 
the grave at his bidding, or hear him by a word hush 
the winds and waves into silence ; hear him, too, pro- 
claim forgiveness of sin, and testify his right by com- 
manding the palsied sick to take up their bed and walk : 
who can witness his sympathy for the afflicted, and his 
own unruffled calmness amid insults and injuries ; fol- 
low him through the closing scenes of his sufferings, 
and behold his meek submission, his magnanimity, his 
good-will to his enemies ; stand by, while, in accom- 
plishment of his own prediction, he bursts the bands of 
death — and hear him, as he ascends from earth to the 
glory which he had with the Father before the world 
was, challenging to himself the attributes of final Judge, 
and the sceptre of unlimited rule : he who can see and 
hear all this, yet discover in him no glimpse of Incar- 
nate Deity — nothing above the utmost capabilities of 
man's nature — must indeed be hopelessly prejudiced or 
wilfully skeptical. The rays of the sun might pierce 

2o 



290 THE SON OF GOD. 

the blind man's lids, but the blindness of such a mind 
is incurable. 

We are aware, too, of the proneness of fanatics to 
magnify their object and exaggerate its importance, until 
their leader, dismissing the humility of a follower of 
Christ, complacently regards himself, as he is called, the 
Jesus Christ of the age ! But if we are shocked at the 
impiety of all such pretensions, we can hardly be less 
amazed at the ignorance which the pretenders themselves 
betray. To deny the historic reality of such a person 
as Jesus of Nazareth ; to regard his mission as simply 
the natural development of a great idea ; or to resolve 
his teachings and doings into a series of myths — does, 
indeed, show how easily philosophy, falsely so called, 
may unhinge the mind, as infidelity always corrupts and 
petrifies the heart: but to arrogate to one's self the 
character and mission of Christ, only proves that fanati- 
cism may craze the brain as well as sear the conscience. 
Astounding presumption ! reckless, incorrigible folly ! 

Look at the Author and Finisher of our faith ! Infi- 
delity may vent its foul aspersions, or brood in secret 
over its dark thoughts ; but, though Argus-eyed in its 
malignity, it can discover not even a defect, much less 
a fault, in his character. Embodying the greatest moral 
strength with the most uniform and consistent virtue, a 
more perfect model defies conception. His meekness, 
his purity, his benevolence — his firmness and strength 
of purpose — and at the same time the lofty and " be- 
fore untrodden range of his intellect" — present him to 
us as the Great and Good without a parallel among 
mortals. 



THE SON OF GOD. 291 

Yet in one sense we may see even Christ himself in 
the present : for whatever is good in the present is strictly 
referable to the light of his teaching, to the peculiar ex- 
cellence of his example, and to the fervor and force of 
his disinterested love; and wherever men are engaged 
in doing good with an eye single to God's glory, there 
he is present, by his word and Spirit, to sustain, and 
cheer, and prosper the work of their hands ; and when- 
ever two or three meet together in his name, there is 
he to bless them with his life-giving, peace-speaking 
presence ; and whenever and wherever his ambassadors 
proclaim his messages of love and mercy to dying men, 
he is with them, and will be with them " even to the 
end of the world." 

They who consult the oracles of worldly wisdom may 
question the truth of the evangelic records, or regard 
Christ as no more than a prophet sent of God, or even 
degrade him to a level with themselves : but he who lis- 
tens to the responses from the sacred oracles, will be 
taught to acknowledge and adore him as "the bright- 
ness of the Father's glory, and the express image of his 
person ;" for it is written that " all men should honor 
the Son even as they honor the Father." He will even 
be taught to welcome and rely on Christ as the Lord 
his righteousness, as well as his sacrifice for sin ; since 
it is written that " by the deeds of the law there shall no 
flesh be justified in God's sight." Nor will his own renun- 
ciation of all self-righteousness at the foot of the cross 
render him less desirous of "cleansing himself from all 
filthiness of the flesh and spirit," or less zealous "in 
every good word and work." No ; the answer to all 



292 THE SON OF GOD. 

our inquiries at the oracles of God respecting Christian 
character and hope is one and the same : " If any man 
have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his." 

Oh ! it is not that all evidences of a Divine mission, and 
of a glorious salvation from the guilt and power of sin, 
do not cluster around the person of Christ Jesus, that 
so many reject his claims :* it is rather that so few who 
profess to regard him as the Son of God, breathe his 
spirit, and imitate his example. 

* Different writers have adverted to Christ's character as conclusive 
proof of the truth of his mission ; but none have presented the argument 
in a clearer light than a late Unitarian divine, to whose " Discourse" the 
author is indebted for some important suggestions. The wonder is, that 
he had not perceived the conclusion to which his own reasoning tends. 
"As an effect," he says, "it must have had an adequate cause;" and 
simply " to refer the character of Jesus to a mission from the Father," 
is not an adequate cause. This were sufficient to account for the char- 
acter of a Moses, or a Paul ; but not for one who embodied in himself 
the perfections of Deity. On the supposilion that a Divine being had 
assumed our nature, it is impossible to conceive in what respect he 
could have transcended in excellence Christ himself. If " his character 
can be explained by nothing around him," it becomes a question whether 
the principle of his existence was physically derived from Adam. The 
evangelists distinctly intimate that the principle of personality and indi- 
vidual existence, in the Son of the Virgin, was union with the uncre- 
ated Word ; and therefore we do injustice to his history, if, in attempting 
to account for " his singular eminence of goodness," we overlook the 
fact of his miraculous conception; while this fact evidently implies 
some higher purpose than simply a mission from the Father to instruct 
men, as it necessarily involves the idea of two entire, distinct natures 
in one person. The evangelists, in their narratives, were consistent 
with their own view of Christ — as " Emmanuel" — God with us „■ but 
an Unitarian in deducing the truth of Christianity from the character 
of its Founder, must needs be inconsistent with his own theory as to 
the nature of Christ. (See "Discourses," &c, by W. E. Channing; 
page 349.) 



THE INFIDEL JEWS. 293 



THE INFIDEL JEWS. 

Among the innumerable evidences of Christ's mis- 
sion, the fact that he was rejected only by those who 
were false to Moses, furnishes one which, though not at 
once obvious, is, on reflection, not the less conclusive. 
An impostor may be a dogmatist, but no impostor ever 
invited scrutiny or challenged skepticism ; much less 
would an impostor have ventured to refer a whole peo- 
ple to the archives of their nation in attestation of his 
claims — fearlessly appealing to the actual founder of 
their religion in final confirmation of the divinity of his 
own mission. 

An impostor might have availed himself of that gen- 
eral expectation which pervaded the Jewish mind, of a 
coming Messiah ; and, though he might have deceived 
some by flattering their prejudices and ministering to 
their passions, he must have failed in any attempt to 
make his character and actions answer to prophetic de- 
scription, or accord with the Mosaic writings. Hence, 
all false Christs — for such did appear — were detected 
and exposed ; but the more the claims of Jesus Christ 
were investigated, the stronger became the conviction 
that he was the Messiah who should come. 

To whom could the original promise of a Saviour 
have referred, if not to him who, though born of a 

2 5 * 



294 THE INFIDEL JEWS. 

woman, was "the brightness of the Father's glory, and 
the express image of his person ?" To whom could all 
the sacrifices of the Mosaic dispensation have pointed, 
if not to him who should " take away sin by the sacri- 
fice of himself?" In whom could the prophecies have 
met their fulfilment, if not in him who " came unto his 
own, and whom his own received not" — and who "was 
led as a lamb to the slaughter?" Who could have 
been "the end of the law for righteousness," if not he 
who " was made under the law, yet without sin" — who 
fulfilled the violated law, and made it honorable ? And 
who could have furnished such an illustrious antitype 
of the Jewish legislator, as he who, like Moses, was 
miraculously preserved in his infancy ; who fasted forty 
days in the wilderness, as Moses did on the Mount ; 
who in an especial manner enjoyed intercourse with 
his heavenly Father, as Moses conversed with God face 
to face ; who appeared as a mediator between God and 
man, as Moses stood in the gap ; and who, even as the 
lawgiver and liberator of the Israelites, appeared with 
supreme power to save his people from their sins, to 
liberate them from the bondage of Satan, to open to 
them a way through the grave, and conduct them safe 
to the heavenly Canaan? 

By consulting the eighteenth chapter of Deuteronomy, 
where the prophecy is recorded, the reader may perceive 
that Moses distinctly referred to a great prophet who 
was destined to succeed him, and whose office it would 
be to establish a more spiritual religion ; that he de- 
scribes him as a lawgiver who should promulge a new 
law ; that he furnished the Jews with a test by which 



THE INFIDEL JEWS. 295 

they might distinguish the Messiah from a false prophet ; 
that none of the prophets ever pretended to such a com- 
mission as Moses prophetically ascribed to Christ ; and 
that, if Christ be not the person to whom Moses referred, 
the Messiah has not yet come. 

But if Moses did foretell the coming of the Messiah 
— one who was to dissolve the ancient Levitical cove- 
nant, and usher in a new and spiritual dispensation ; 
and if, in every respect, Jesus Christ answered to his 
prophetic description, as well as to the descriptions of 
other prophets sent of God ; if the evidences of his 
Messiahship were so palpable, even in his birth and 
boyhood, that the aged Simeon could exclaim, " Now, 
Lord,'lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine 
eyes have seen thy salvation" — why did so many, who 
called themselves Israelites, not believe on him ? Why 
did they hold out to the last, not only against the proofs 
furnished by the Old-Testament writers, but against the 
more obtrusive evidence furnished by his own word 
and works ? 

Shall we say that, though they knew Moses referred to 
a coming Messiah, prejudice blinded their eyes against 
Christ? This is not improbable. There was nothing 
in Christ's external appearance to prepossess them in 
favor of his Messiahship, while there was much in his 
discourses to call forth their dislike. It was natural for 
them, therefore, to prejudge and condemn, just as in 
after-times his gospel was not unfrequently rejected, 
from sentiments of aversion and contempt, prior to 
examination. 

Neither is it improbable, in the event of their having 



296 THE INFIDEL JEWS. 

been convinced, from a comparison of the prophetic 
writings with the character of Christ's mission, or from 
hearing his teachings and witnessing his works, that the 
pride of their hearts might have led them to stand out 
against his claims. Instead of one who, according to 
their expectations, was to appear in regal pomp, Jesus 
was a meek and lowly man. Instead of one whom they 
fondly dreamed would lead them on to victory and to 
national greatness, Jesus was a peacemaker — opposing 
all their cherished hopes, and mortifying all their lofty 
aspirations ; a man also who, instead of courting the 
society of the rich and the powerful, and deferring to 
the sentiments of the Rabbis, rebuked the vices of the 
former, and exposed the hypocrisy of the latter, while 
he himself associated with publicans and sinners ; a man 
without any worldly advantages, whether of riches, rank, 
or education ; whose parentage they knew to be obscure, 
and whose birthplace was a despised city. ' Surely, he 
cannot be the Messiah — we will not believe it;' and 
the opinion, once expressed, might have remained, 
whatever their subsequent convictions to the contrary. 

It is in no other way that we can account for the infi- 
delity of some at the present day. Their objections 
have been answered, and they are unable to meet the 
arguments with which Christianity urges its claims. 
Whence, then, their unbelief, unless it arises from the 
obstinacy of their wills — their proud reluctance to sub- 
mit to the humiliating requisitions of the gospel? — So 
have I seen a man refusing to admit the truth of a doc- 
trine, not because he could fairly answer the argument 
in its favor, but because it clashed with the pride of 



THE INFIDEL JEWS. 297 

opinion, or interfered with some selfish interest. It is 
thus that the Romanist refuses to admit the sufficiency 
of Scripture ; that the imitator of Romanists continues to 
reiterate his untenable positions ; that the Socinian de- 
nies the divinity of Christ, and the Universalist the 
future punishment of the wicked. Of what avail any 
arguments in favor of the truth, when pride is doing 
battle for self, or the lusts of the flesh beclouding the 
judgment? As well expect liberality in a miser, or 
honesty in a knave, as an acknowledgment of error 
from one whose selfishness is arrayed against the 
truth. This is a well-known feature of human nature, 
and may serve to explain the persistive unbelief of the 
Jews. 

But this is not the reason which Christ assigns : " Had 
ye believed Moses, ye would have believed me." What, 
when they called themselves his followers, and even re- 
jected Christ for the sake of Moses, did they neverthe- 
less not believe in him? This is a serious charge, and, 
unless it be established, there is no force in our Saviour's 
conclusion. True, Jesus Christ knew what is in man ; 
and this should satisfy us as to the Jews' infidelity in 
Moses : but the observant mind may always gather, from 
among the various incidents of our Saviour's life, some 
conclusive though undesigned evidence of his actual 
power to read the heart. Thus, it appears that he knew 
the character of the woman whom he met at the well of 
Jacob ; he knew the design of the woman who touched 
the hem of his garment ; he knew that Peter would 
deny, and that Judas would betray him : and, in like 
manner, may we ascertain, from a variety of circum- 



298 THE INFIDEL JEWS. 

stances, that he was not mistaken in his conclusion 
respecting those who rejected his Messiahship. 

At the time of our Saviour's advent, there were three 
prominent sects among the Jews — the Sadducees, the 
Pharisees, and the Essenes — each of which had their 
respective leaders, and between which there existed, on 
some points, the greatest contrariety of opinion. All, 
however, professed to regard the Mosaic institutes with 
reverence ; yet alike made void the law through their 
traditions, " teaching for doctrines the commandments 
of men." Among the Athenians, too, there were differ- 
ent schools of philosophy ; and, though each observed 
an ostensible deference to the popular mythology, we 
know that the sentiments which they advanced were 
ofttimes incompatible with belief in the pagan oracles, 
and tended to unsettle the popular faith. There is, in- 
deed, no parallel between the pagan and Jewish oracles ; 
but this skepticism of the heathen philosophers serves 
to illustrate a fact in the history of human nature — that 
whenever men become associated for the purpose of 
speculating on moral and religious subjects, though they 
may have previously acknowledged some creed, a pref- 
erence is insensibly given to their own excogitations and 
deductions : their own views become distinctive, and at 
last the founder of their school or sect is looked up to with 
reverence, deferred to with willing submissiveness, and 
adhered to with arrant bigotry. It is the tendency of 
human nature, as time modifies our mental associations, 
and changing circumstances induce a diversity of selfish 
interests, either to separate into different and conflicting 
parties, or to depart from original principles. What 



THE INFIDEL JEWS. 299 

government has not in some respects changed from its 
original form? What institution has not, at some period 
of its history, deviated from the intentions of its found- 
ers ? Thus it happened that the church of Rome be- 
came false to the form and doctrine of primitive Chris- 
tianity, and that the church of England has departed 
from the Calvinistic sentiments of her reformers. Is it 
not a fact, that, in the estimation of a papist, the church 
is paramount in authority to the Bible ; that the patristic 
writings have more weight with an ecclesiastic than the 
Acts of the Apostles, or the epistles of St. Paul ; that 
Revelation is of no account with many compared with 
the authority of Ignatius, the visions of Swedenborg, or 
the rationalism of Socinus? 

It is far from improbable, then, that there were among 
the Jews not a few who cared not for Moses any further 
than his institutes could be made to subserve the inter- 
ests of their own sect — who, in his name, and under 
the garb of his authority, advanced their own notions 
and furthered their own ends. While contending for 
their own traditions, and while enforcing their own dog- 
mas, they might, like some of our modern traditionists, 
have denounced all who dissented from them as infidels ; 
have devoutly thought that they were doing God service ; 
and, while all for themselves, that they were all for Moses ! 

Certain it is, they did not obey the law of Moses : 
" They paid tithe of mint, anise, and cumin, but neg- 
lected the weightier matters of the law." Though, in 
some instances, guilty of all ungodliness and unrigh- 
teousness, they contrived by their ostentatious ablutions, 
fastings, almsgiving, and prayers, to impress the general 



300 THE INFIDEL JEWS. 

mind with an idea of their superior sanctity : just as the 
monks contrived to be regarded by the people as para- 
gons of virtue and saints in devotion, while in their 
retirement from public view they wrought all unclean- 
ness with greediness : or such men as Tetzel and Eck, 
who were loud in their denunciations of infidels, and un- 
relenting in their persecution of heretics, and yet among 
the foremost in every deed of darkness — not hesitating 
even to burn the word of God ! Such, indeed, is the 
case with every man who puts on religion as a cloak for 
either his ambitious or covetous designs. When virtue 
degenerates into asceticism, and religion becomes sanc- 
timonious, and zeal is expended in behalf of rites and 
forms rather than against sin and Satan, we are not 
unjust in suspecting some sinister departure from the 
doctrine which is according to godliness : we may con- 
clude that some inclination is gratified, instead of duty 
followed; that some "law of the members" is exalted 
above the law of God ; and that the truth, if held at all, 
is " held in unrighteousness." Hence, our Saviour said 
to the scribes and Pharisees, notwithstanding the esti- 
mation in which they were held by the people on ac- 
count of their seeming holiness — " I know you, that ye 
have not the love of God in you." — "Ye hypocrites! 
first make clean the inside of the platter." — "Ye are 
of your father the devil, and the works of your father 
ye do." 

It is clear, however, from many incidental allusions 
in the gospels, that they made long prayers to be seen 
of men, and loved the greetings in the market-place — 
especially to be called " Rabbi ;" that they quoted and 



THE INFIDEL JEWS. 301 

perverted the law to corroborate their own private opin- 
ions, and used the name of Moses at once to cover 
and effect their selfish purposes. No one doubts the 
infidelity of Judas, because it is known that he deliber- 
ately betrayed Christ for lucre ; nor can we doubt the 
infidelity of any one who professes Christianity, or con- 
nects himself with the church, in order to secure some 
worldly advantages. Instances of the kind are not want- 
ing in our day ; and if so, might not Moses have been 
repeatedly acknowledged among the Jews from similar 
motives? The presumption becomes certainty when 
we consider that theirs was a national religion, preclu- 
ding any one's political advancement who did not ac- 
knowledge Moses, and securing to any one greater 
influence from whatever appearance of sanctity he was 
able to present. 

If, then, there can be no belief in a religious teacher 
unless his authority be respected, his laws observed, 
and his interests consulted, it is certain that they who 
rejected Christ did not believe Moses. But if they had 
believed Moses, they would have believed in Christ. 
In order to belief, much depends on the previous state 
of the mind — quite as much, perhaps, as on the degree 
of evidence presented. I allude not now to the domi- 
nant sway of prejudice or of passion, but to the habit 
which may have been formed of reflecting seriously, and 
weighing matters candidly, together with the disposition 
to confirm or to correct one's views — to be delivered 
from error, or to ascertain the truth. He who takes an 
interest in a case at law, will be more likely to perceive 
the soundness or to detect the fallacy of the arguments 

26 



302 THE INFIDEL JEWS. 

advanced. He who, is conscious of the insufficiency of 
his attainments, will be more likely to enlarge his intel- 
lectual bounds than he who complacently thinks that 
there is no light beyond the limits of his own Gotham. 
Might it not, then, have been the case with these Jews, 
that they were not in a state of mind for investigating 
the claims of the Messiah — some of them not having 
been accustomed to thought ; others being indifferent ; 
and others, again, wrapped up in the notions of their 
own sect? 

Hence the difference in men as to their appreciation 
of the Christian evidences. He who ever sits down to 
ponder the mystery of his being — who earnestly desires 
to know whence he is, and whither he is going — or who 
realizes the inconclusiveness of reason's deductions, and 
the insufficiency of all earthly things to promote his 
happiness — is the most likely, and always the first, to 
be convinced by the evidences of Revelation : his felt 
wants anticipate the necessity of elaborate documentary 
proof. The same preparation of mind for the reception 
of the truth, may be illustrated by a reference to some at 
the period of the Reformation. Dissatisfied with the 
condition of the church, most seriously disposed, and 
longing for a more excellent way, such minds were 
among the foremost to hail the teachings of the reform- 
ers ; and, the more they studied the Scriptures, the 
stronger became their conviction that the reformers were 
sent of God. 

In like manner, had the rejecters of Christ seriously 
believed in Moses, they would have understood the 
nature of his economy ; looked through the sacrifices to 



THE INFIDEL JEWS. 303 

Him whom they prefigured, and perceived the applica- 
tion of its prophecies to him whom they saw before 
them. At least, by studying his writings and imbibing 
their spirit, they would have been prepared to respond 
to the glorious annunciation : " Unto us a child is born, 
unto us a son is given : and the government shall be 
upon his shoulder : and his name shall be called Won- 
derful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting 
Father, The Prince of Peace." 

It is not to be supposed that Abel, who by faith 
offered up a more acceptable sacrifice than Cain ; or 
that David, who so often tuned his harp in praise of the 
Messiah ; or that Isaiah, who prophetically described 
his person and all the circumstances of his life and 
death with the accuracy of an eye-witness — would 
have rejected Christ, had they lived to see him in the 
flesh. Xo ; and, as holy men of old "inquired and 
searched diligently," so were there many at the period 
of the advent most earnestly looking for Him " of whom 
the prophets wrote" — even for " him who should re- 
deem Israel." 

With what thrilling emotions did they hear the voice 
of one crying in the wilderness — " Prepare ye the way 
of the Lord; make his paths straight!" And when 
Jesus came, how did they rejoice with exceeding great 
joy ; and with what cordiality did they embrace him — 
beholding then the desire of their eyes ! As the star 
guided the wise men to Bethlehem, so did their " hope 
in the promise which God had made unto their fathers," 
guide them to Him who had come to fulfil the law 
and the prophets : and thus would it have been with 



304 THE INFIDEL JEWS. 

those who rejected Christ, had they only believed 
Moses. 

If they had believed Moses, and, by consequence, 
" done justly, loved mercy, and walked humbly with 
God," so far from rejecting, they would have been pre- 
disposed to admit the claims of one whose life was a 
living exemplification of the principles of the law, and 
whose ethical teachings so beautifully developed its 
meaning and illustrated its spirit. Not to them would 
his denunciation of injustice, hypocrisy, and self-righ- 
teousness have applied — suffusing their cheek with 
shame, or kindling their eye with rage ; while every 
sentiment that fell from his lips would have met a re- 
sponse in their own love of goodness and virtue — elicit- 
ing the involuntary exclamation, " Never man spake 
like this man !" To the mind of a virtuous and devout 
Jew, the sermon on the Mount must have been invested 
with a resistless charm ; and he who uttered it — all 
purity, all meekness, and all love! — must have ap- 
peared to be no less than a prophet sent of God. It is 
not to be conceived how a lover of truth and righteous- 
ness could be opposed to such a character as Jesus 
Christ. To suppose it possible, were to admit that a 
man of inflexible justice could condemn Aristides ; that 
a merciful man could revile Howard ; or that a patriot 
could loathe the character of Washington. 

In this way, we account for the belief of many who 
saw Christ in the flesh. Accustomed to refer the Mo- 
saic law to a Divine origin, and to regulate their actions 
by its rules, they felt that he whose life as well as teach- 
ings magnified the law, could not be an impostor ; and 



THE INFIDEL JEWS. 305 

if not an impostor, then indeed be was the " light of the 
world," and "the Lamb of God that taketh away the 
sin of the world !" 

It was owing to the fact that Cornelius was a devout 
man, " one who feared God with all his house," that he 
was disposed to believe in Christ. The gospel unfolded 
to him clearer views of truth and duty ; furnished him 
with stronger motives ; presented to him a perfect 
example ; and secured to him a perfect righteousness. 
On the other hand, men whose deeds are evil, love 
darkness rather than light; and hence, all such are now 
disposed to skepticism, and the most forward to avail 
themselves of any objections to the word of God. There 
is, indeed, an intimate sympathy between the affections 
and the judgment — the love of goodness opening the 
mind to truth ; the love of vice blinding the mind to all 
that is true, and embittering the heart against all that is 
fair. Hence our Saviour, at one time, said to those 
who rejected him, " Ye will not come unto me that ye 
may have life;" and again, "If any man will do my 
will, he shall know of the doctrine whether it be of 
God." 

But the rejecters of Christ could not have believed in 
Moses without relying on the evidence which was fur- 
nished of his inspiration, his prophecies, and his mira- 
cles ; and there was one who presented in his discourses 
evidence of the same kind, if not higher, that he was in- 
spired with Divine wisdom ; in his predictions, that he 
was endowed with prescience ; and in his works, that 
the mighty hand of God was with him : nay, who with 
an authority superior to that of any preceding prophet 

x6* 



306 THE INFIDEL JEWS. 

sent of God, spoke in his own name, and by his single 
word caused inanimate nature to attest the truth of his 
doctrine. It was on this ground that our Saviour said to 
them : " If I do not the works of my Father, believe me 
not ; but if I do, though ye believe not me, believe the 
works — the works that I do in my Father's name, they 
bear witness of me." 

Had they believed in Moses, from the conviction of 
those Divine evidences with which his mission had been 
accompanied — and on no other ground could they have 
rationally admitted his claims — surely they could not 
have consistently rejected the claims of Christ to the 
Messiahship, when they heard him speak as never man 
had spoken, and saw him do what no man had ever 
done before ; especially when they could not have been 
ignorant that the Mosaic writings themselves furnished 
ground for the confident expectation which then perva- 
ded unnumbered minds, of the Messiah's advent. The 
more closely they scrutinized his claims, the stronger 
would have been their conviction — "This is He that 
should come." The language of their hearts would 
have been even as that which burst from the lips of 
many a sincere Jew : " We know that thou art a teacher 
come from God ; for no man can do these miracles which 
thou doest, except God be with him." — "We believe 
and are sure that thou art the Christ, the Son of the 
living God." 

In short, without an humble, docile heart, they could 
not have believed in Moses ; and, with such a heart, 
they would have believed in Christ. But they rejected 
him ; and this proves — inasmuch as their rejection of 



THE INFIDEL JEWS. 307 

Christ was the consequence of their not really believing 
Moses — that, though they were in Israel, they were 
not of Israel. And this conclusion involves a truth 
which it behooves us to ponder, and that most seriously 
— a truth which should impel every one to look into 
his own heart with jealous scrutiny. A man may de- 
ceive himself as to his religion — profess what he does 
not believe ! Notwithstanding all their apparent zeal, 
though it might have maddened them to have their sin- 
cerity questioned, these very Jews did not believe 
Moses ! 

But is not human nature the same as ever? and the 
heart still deceitful above all things? Are there not 
the same temptations to hypocrisy and unbelief, and the 
same refuges of lies? What follows, then, but that 
some in our day may not believe in Christ, though they 
profess his name — may actually deceive themselves 
with a false hope ? How little deference is there to the 
doctrine which is according to godliness ; how little 
conformity to the precepts of the gospel ; how much 
formality and worldliness even in the church ! 

Suppose Moses had re-appeared to the scribes and 
Pharisees, is it not probable to the last degree that they 
would have rejected his teachings, even as some of the 
ancient Israelites rose up against him in the wilderness? 
Does it, then, admit of a reasonable doubt, that, if Jesus 
Christ were to appear in our day, and to lift up his voice 
as he once spoke to the multitude in Judea, that some, 
even among those who call themselves Christians, would 
gnash on him with their teeth — exclaiming, even as 
some of the Jews of old, "Away with him, away with 



308 THE INFIDEL JEWS. 

him: we will not have this man to reign over us!" — 
" The temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord are we!" 

Is this an unfounded presumption ? How happens 
it, then, that the gospel has in many instances ceased to 
be the rule of faith ; that the doctrines of the cross are 
so often an offence ; that the sayings of Jesus are to 
many hard sayings ; that the cause of Christ awakens 
no interest in some minds ; and that, among others, any 
efforts to advance his cause, to lead men to Christ that 
they may be justified by a faith which works by love, 
and purifies the heart, and overcomes the world, meets 
with opposition and hate ? 

" He that is not with me is against me," said Christ. 
"He that gathereth not with me, scattereth abroad." — 
" If any man will be my disciple, let him deny himself." 
— "Ye shall know them by their fruits." Hence — and 
it follows with logical certainty — he who is governed 
by the maxims of the world, by the traditions of the 
fathers, or by the commandments of men, has no sub- 
missive faith in the word of God ; he who does not 
observe the sayings of Christ to do them, has no love 
for him ; he who is devoted to " the world with its affec- 
tions and lusts" — to fashion and to forms — is not seek- 
ing " the things which belong to Jesus Christ." Can 
there be faith, if his word be nothing to us whenever it 
clashes with either our reason or our traditions, our 
prejudices or our passions ? if his precepts are observed 
only when they coincide with our worldly interests ? if 
his religion is felt to be a burden, except so far as it 
may afford an opportunity for either exalting or aggran- 
dizing ourselves ? 



THE IXFIDEL JEWS. 309 

" Be not deceived ; God is not mocked ; for whatso- 
ever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." The day- 
is not far distant when " the fire shall try every man's 
work of what sort it is :" and if so be that any who pro- 
fess Christ have not been one with him in their views, 
and feelings, and actions — "I never knew you," will 
be the sentence of the Judge ; ' ye had your reward in 
the gratification of your own passions.' 

Hence, there can be no neutrality. As, on the last 
day, we shall be placed either on the right hand or on 
the left of the Judge, so now we are either the sincere 
friends or the covert enemies of Jesus Christ — either 
justified by faith, or yet in our sins, and in danger of 
" the damnation of hell." 

How appalling the thought that any Christian profes- 
sor may be infidel at heart — may at last hear those 
irrevocable words of exclusion and reprobation ! 

What a serious matter is it, then, to profess Christ, 
with such a heart as mine — so prone to unbelief! in 
such a world as this, where error is so multiform and 
insidious, and self so seldom appealed to in vain ! 

Ah me, it is a difficult thing to be a Christian ! What 
searching of heart is necessary — what circumspection, 
what humility, what self-denial ! Still, let me not shrink 
from the work of God — the work of faith. Let the 
world account me credulous and austere, or withhold 
from me all that it has to give : but, O my God, suffer 
me not to be false to Christ ! 



310 THE SIN OF THE PHARISEES. 



THE SIN OF THE PHARISEES. 

There have been various theories respecting the 
* unpardonable sin.' Some have taxed their ingenuity, 
others their imagination; and others, again — from the 
conflicting views of theologians — have supposed that no 
satisfactory explanation could be given. But in this, as 
in relation to many scriptural points, the necessity for in- 
genious speculation might have been precluded, or the 
possibility of an erroneous construction avoided, had 
there been only a simple effort to ascertain the circum- 
stances which gave rise to our Saviour's solemn assevera- 
tion. Overlook the context, and there can be no end to 
conjecture as to the meaning of any scriptural passage ; 
and no possibility of agreement in view, so long as minds 
reason from their own independent data, or are warped 
in judgment by their respective prepossessions. 

It appears that Christ had recently performed several 
miracles ; and, among other astonishing and gracious 
works, had restored to sight and to speech one who, 
having been possessed with a devil, was both blind and 
dumb.* As a necessary consequence, " all the people 
were amazed." Such a miracle could have been per- 
formed by no ordinary personage : it naturally suggested 
to them the presence and power of one sent of God ; it 
* Matthew xi. 22-33. 



THE SIN OF THE PHARISEES. 311 

brought to their recollection that prophecy which had 
been uttered in the hearing of their fathers : " Then, the 
eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the 
deaf shall be unstopped ;" thus inducing the involuntary 
exclamation — 'Is not this the son of David? is not 
this the promised descendant of David — the Messiah?' 

Such an inference was obtruded on their minds by 
the miracle itself; while the miracle, when interpreted 
in the light of the Old-Testament prophecies, served to 
corroborate their inference. The wonder is, not that 
so many people, in consequence of the miracle, should 
have been inclined to embrace Christ as the Messiah, 
but that any could have refrained from responding to 
their pertinent interrogatory — "Is not this the son of 
David ?' r Disbelief, under such circumstances, merited 
a rebuke not less sarcastic than that which the blind man 
whose eyes Jesus had opened, administered to the Phari- 
sees : " Why herein is a marvellous thing, that ye 
know not whence he is ; and yet he hath opened mine 
eyes !" 

Was it not clear, from their own Scriptures, that a 
Redeemer was promised ? Had not the whole Jewish 
nation been anxiously expecting their long-predicted 
Messiah? Was not his coming to be attended with 
signal blessings to their nation and to the world ? Yes ; 
but what was popular sentiment to those who affected 
to look down on the common people ? what the general 
good of the people to men whose only aim was to retain 
their own authority ? and of what avail all the evidence 
with which the Messiahship of Christ was accompanied, 
but to convince the Pharisees that the authority of their 



312 THE SIN OF THE PHARISEES. 

teachings was endangered ; that, just in proportion as 
he rose in popular estimation, they would sink? 

How often do selfish interests obscure one's percep- 
tions to the truth of God, or close his heart against the 
claims of duty ! What do some care for the welfare of 
society, for the cause of truth and righteousness, so long 
as they can retain the honors or the fees of office ? How 
will they contend for their own worldly interests, under 
the plea of opposing pernicious errors, or of exposing 
sinister motives! — just as the Romanists persecuted 
Luther, to secure the sale of indulgences ; representing 
him to be in league with the devil, or Satan himself in 
the garb of an angel of light, that they might counteract 
the force of his scriptural arguments. It is, in fact, a 
common expedient of wicked men to asperse the motives 
for an act, if they cannot deny its apparent goodness ; to 
disarm the force of whatever truth may interfere with 
their selfish interests, by vilifying the character of its 
advocate. Herein may be detected the secret of the 
Pharisees' opposition to the teachings and miracles of 
our blessed Lord : they saw that their own authority 
with the people was in danger. Too haughty to bow 
themselves to the claims of Christ, they were at the 
same time too selfish to relinquish their hold on the 
popular mind ; and yet, though they themselves would 
not yield, in what way could they restrain the people ? 

It will avail nothing to deny the miracle : a thousand 
voices at once testify to the fact. Equally futile will it 
be to deny that such a miracle must have been wrought 
by supernatural power : the people can never be in- 
duced to believe that it bespeaks no higher agency than 



THE SIX OF THE PHARISEES. 313 

any skilful man might exert ; and they may gravely chal- 
lenge us to do the same. We must grant, therefore, 
that a miracle has been wrought — and, moreover, that 
it could not have been performed by man's unaided 
power : but, at the same time, we must persuade them 
that Christ himself is not only unworthy of their confi- 
dence, but beneath their respect ; that ice look down on 
him with sentiments of scorn and abhorrence ; that no 
one who either regards his own religious interests, or 
respects his character in society, should follow a man 
who is in league with the very god of filth and abomi- 
nation ! ' Yes ; we grant you that a miracle has been 
wrought, and that, too, by supernatural power ; but is 
there no power besides Divine power? is there not a 
Satanic influence which is often mistaken for the very 
hand of God? Does not the devil himself sometimes 
assume the appearance of an angel of light? "Why, 
this fellow doth not cast out devils but by Beelzebub, 
the prince of the devils !" ' 

Wonderful explanation ! as though the devil would 
intentionally defeat his own purposes! as though he 
would prompt and aid Christ to undo what he himself 
had done ! This were to array Satan against Satan — 
for Satan to cast out Satan ! So true is it that malignity 
often outwits itself. 

Hence, said Jesus : " Every kingdom divided against 
itself is brought to desolation ; and every city or house 
divided against itself shall not stand." — ' Satan's king- 
dom cannot stand, if, according to your principles of 
reasoning, I am in league with him, and yet against 
him !' 

27 



314 THE SIN OF THE PHARISEES. 

But, not content with having, as it were, exposed the 
absurdity of their explanation of the miracle, he ar- 
raigned their own followers against their argument ; for, 
as they pretended to cast out devils, it followed that 
they themselves must also be leagued with the devil ; 
and then, as though he had designed to cover them 
with confusion worse confounded, he shows them that, 
according to their own principles of reasoning, he must 
have overcome and subdued Satan himself — rendering 
him utterly powerless to retain his hold on any person, 
or to accomplish his plans : " How can one enter into a 
strong man's house, and spoil his goods, except he first 
bind the strong man?" 

Perhaps there never was, in so few words, so com- 
plete a refutation of a most insidious and malignant 
attack. He had not only caused their argument to re- 
coil with emphasis against themselves — but, as they 
had admitted supernatural agency in the case, it followed 
that, if the work was not done by the aid of Satan, it 
must have been by the power of God — these two forces, 
the one of God, and the other of Satan, being in essen- 
tial and necessary antagonism : and if nothing short of 
Divine power could rescue men from the dominion of 
Satan, it conclusively followed that God had set up his 
kingdom in the midst of them. 

But, in addition to this, our Saviour lays down and 
urges a great principle — a principle to which on sev- 
eral occasions he had adverted, and which, in this con- 
nection, is introduced with striking force. Guided by 
this principle, there is little danger of mistaking either 
the import of the miracle which he had wrought, or the 



THE SIN OF THE PHARISEES. 315 

relations which he himself sustained. ' There are but 
two great antagonistic powers in the universe : between 
them there can be no compromise, no neutrality ; and, 
by consequence, if I am not in league with Satan, I 
must be opposed to him ; and if you are not in league 
with me, you must be in league with him. If I do not 
aid Satan, I must oppose him ; and, in like manner, if 
you oppose me, you aid him : he that is not for me, is 
against me ; and on this principle, in siding against me, 
you side with Satan, and against God!' 

Having thus turned their argument against themselves, 
he proceeds to expose their criminality — to lay bare the 
nature of the sin of which they had been guilty in hav- 
ing charged him with being in league with Beelzebub, 
the prince of the devils. In so doing, they had offered 
a direct insult to the Spirit of God — that power by 
which the miracle had been wrought ; thus virtually as- 
cribing an exhibition of Divine power and mercy to the 
agency of the Evil One. They had, consequently, 
sinned against the Holy Ghost ; and for this very rea- 
son, because, according to St. Mark, they had said that 
" Jesus was possessed of an unclean spirit." Other 
sins were venial in comparison with this ; other sins God 
might pardon on the repentance and faith of the trans- 
gressor ; but this, involving so deep and damning an 
insult to the Most High — being at once so presumptu- 
ous and awful — there can be no forgiveness for it, ei- 
ther in this world or in the world to come : that is — 
for it is a Hebrew form of expression — God would 
never forgive it — hath never forgiveness, as St. Mark 
explains it, and thus determines the meaning of the 



316 THE SIN OF THE PHARISEES. 

phrase — but is in danger of eternal damnation: it 
insured everlasting destruction. 

It was no trifling offence to speak against him as the 
Son of man : still, though they should reflect on his 
birthplace and parentage, on his poverty and lowliness ; 
and invidiously call him a Nazarene, or contemptuously 
ask whether " any good thing could come out of Naza- 
reth" — yet, for such affronts, there was forgiveness on 
repentance : but if they accused him of being in league 
with Satan, they were guilty of a blasphemous attack on 
his Divine nature and power. By so doing, they at 
once impugned his Divinity, and most foully aspersed 
the power of his Father : they had said of him whom 
the Father had sanctified, that he was corrupt ; and 
therefore they were guilty of blasphemy, not merely 
against the Spirit with which the man Christ Jesus was 
actuated, but against the Spirit of God himself! 

That this is the simple meaning of the passage, and 
that our Saviour did not refer to some special sin against 
the third person of the Trinity, is conclusively evident 
from the following verse : " Either make the tree good 
and his fruit good, or else make the tree corrupt and 
his fruit corrupt ; for the tree is known by his fruit." 
This is an infallible criterion — an absolute, universal, 
unchanging standard of human judgment. ' Now, I 
must be corrupt, if my doctrines and works are those of 
the devil ; but if they are not, then you have been guilty 
of blasphemy in ascribing them to satanic influence ; and 
not only so, but you convict yourselves of that which 
you charge on me : your works are the works of the 



THE SIN OF THE PHARISEES. 317 

devil, and your doctrines such as he teaches. "O 
generation of vipers !" ' 

The reference is rather to the Divine nature of Christ, 
than to the third person of the Godhead — to the Divine 
power by which he wrought the miracle ; and, in blas- 
pheming that power, consisted the great sin of the Phari- 
sees ; and that sin was unpardonable. It was the highest 
possible affront that could be offered to God : he who 
committed it, accused God's only-begotten and well- 
beloved Son of having conspired with Satan, and, by 
necessary consequence, of being himself a devil! 

But though our Saviour's declaration affords no coun- 
tenance to the notion that sin against the Holy Ghost is 
of a more aggravated nature than an offence committed 
against God the Father or God the Son, it is neverthe- 
less fraught with the most solemn meaning, while it 
admits of a wider application than is generally supposed. 
Taken in its scriptural connection, it furnishes us with 
a principle which will serve to guide us in determining 
the different degrees of guilt which men may incur, or 
the greater danger to which they may be exposed. 

Thus, he who denies that the Scriptures were written 
by inspiration of God, is in danger on the same princi- 
ple by which our Saviour condemned the Pharisees. 
They ascribed his miracles to the agency of the Evil 
One ; and what is it to deny the inspiration of the Scrip- 
tures, but virtually to assert that they were instigated by 
the devil? — for, if they were not written by the finger 
of Divine inspiration, it follows that they were written 
by wicked and designing men. 

It is in vain to say they might have been good though 
27* 



318 THE SIN OF THE PHARISEES. 

mistaken men. Whatever their moral character, if they 
dM not write under the inspiration of the Spirit of God, 
they must have known that they were fabricating a story 
to impose on the world ; and they must have been the 
most daring and adroit impostors that ever lived — the 
very children of the devil, him who is the father of lies, 
and a murderer from the beginning. 

This is the alternative to which we are unavoidably 
reduced in relation to the Scriptures : either they are 
true, or they are false. If true, then they are of God ; 
if false, of the devil. There is no middle ground be- 
tween truth and falsehood — between the principle of all 
good and the principle of all evil ; and he who regards 
the Scriptures as the work of men, is in no wise less 
culpable than the Pharisees, who thought to trace Christ's 
miraculous power to his co-operation with Satan. 

Little did the Pharisees think of the real import and 
bearing of their explanation ; and seldom may the infi- 
del pause to reflect on the import of his own objections. 
Be this as it may, he has virtually ascribed the work of 
the Scriptures to the agency of the Evil One ; and if 
this be not, to all intents and purposes, blasphemy against 
the Holy Ghost — that Spirit which indited the Scrip- 
tures — then there is no relevancy in our Saviour's rea- 
soning against the position of the Pharisees. 

It avails nothing to say he may not believe that the 
Scriptures have been written by inspiration of God : 
neither did the Pharisees believe that our Saviour's 
miracle was a Divine miracle. But, as they withstood 
the clearest evidence, and perverted an unquestionable 
fact, through the selfishness and malignity of their hearts, 



THE SIN OF THE PHARISEES. 319 

what but some equally selfish or. malignant purpose can 
lead a man to withstand the evidences of inspired truth ? 
Did the former only betray their desperate depravity, 
then the latter, in denying the inspiration of Scripture, 
evinces no less presumption and impiety. Nay, no man 
who is not himself in league with the powers of dark- 
ness, could deliberately give this word the lie. He must 
be already given up to judicial blindness of mind and 
hardness of heart, who can lay his hand on the Bible 
and say, ' I believe this book to be false as hell ;' much 
more, if, having uttered this in his retirement, he hears 
no accusing voice from within, whispering as from the 
depths of an oracle — 'Fool! madman! the curse of 
God is on thee !' 

Men may have their doubts, and be inclined to listen 
to objections ; or they may utter remarks in public which 
in private their own consciences force them to retract. 
For the sake of showing their superiority to the com- 
mon mind, or of being undisturbed in their worldly 
course, they may ward off the arrows of truth, and affect 
to be what they are not ; but, however hazardous the 
course which such are pursuing, they are not as yet lost 
to all moral sensibility : their assertions belie their con- 
victions ; their assumed indifference, or even their jeers 
and witticisms, but ill conceal the wrestling uneasiness 
of their thoughts. Notwithstanding their habit of talk- 
ing, or their forwardness to start difficulties, such are 
not without their moments of seriousness. Conscience 
at times rebukes them ; and conscience can be silenced 
only by worldly diversion, or by the secret purpose of 
final repentance : and thus it happens that men of 



320 THE SIN OF THE PHARISEES. 

this class are not unfrequently brought to the penitent 
acknowledgment and belief of the truth. Here and 
there, too, is a man whose mind is embarrassed by some 
irrelevant difficulty ; who would believe, but cannot ; 
who looks on Christianity as a most beautiful theory, 
and goes away sorrowing. 

But in relation to the other class of skeptics — -they 
who, having long trifled with serious things, have at last 
seared their consciences, and therefore not hesitated to 
revile and ridicule as well as denounce the Scriptures — 
it admits of doubt whether any one of this class has ever 
been brought to true repentance. Were such men 
as Paine and Voltaire ? Alas ! their souls were steeped 
in the guilt of blasphemy — blasphemy against the Holy 
Ghost! For them, there was no peace — no hope: 
they awoke at last to their enormous guilt, only to die 
embosomed in the horrors of the second death ! 

Akin to this, and almost as hazardous, is the sin of 
taking from, or adding to, the inspired Scriptures. This 
is done, on the one hand, by the rationalist, and, on the 
other, by the traditionist ; and, in either case, what less 
does it involve than an affront to the Spirit of God? Is 
it not to assert that God's Spirit has indited either more 
or less than is necessary to our salvation ? Does it not 
virtually impeach either the truthfulness or the sufficiency 
of the inspired Scriptures ? Is it not, to a certain ex- 
tent, either falsifying the mind of the Spirit, or wholly 
disparaging his work? And thus to pervert the Scrip- 
tures — what is this but the very conduct of the Phari- 
sees, who perverted a Divine miracle? — like them, 
admitting only so much of the miracle of inspiration as 



THE SIN OF THE PHARISEES. 321 

will suit our theories or our selfish interests ; or so over- 
laying the Scriptures as to lessen the inspired writers 
in the estimation of the people, and to exalt ourselves — 
leading the people to adhere to us rather than to follow 
Christ ! It is even to convict ourselves of being in 
league with self and the world, against the admission or 
against the spread of evangelical truth ! To us, this 
seems too obvious to need either proof or illustration. 
Yet, if one should retain a book which the author had 
loaned to him, and after a while return it to him, with 
here and there a passage cut out, and some of its pages 
torn out — having left only such parts as he did not dis- 
like — would it not be said that he had taken an unpar- 
donable liberty? or if, instead of the same book, he 
should send his own comments in the place of it, assu- 
ring the author that without his comments it could not 
be understood, or might be perverted — what greater 
insult could he offer? But such is the audacious lib- 
erty which the rationalist takes with God's word ; such, 
too, though in an incomparably greater degree, the 
affront which the traditionist puts on God's Revelation ! 
Instead of God's word, he hands us the decrees of men ; 
instead of bow r ing to the truth of God, he turns the truth 
into a lie by his traditions. In all such cases, the sin 
of mocking and insulting the Spirit of God is just as 
apparent as if a juggler or a mesmerizer should attempt, 
by imitating the Christian miracles, to disparage the 
power of Jesus Christ. 

Hence it appears that he w T ho has once deliberately 
perverted the plain meaning of Scripture, goes on, as by 
a fatal necessity, in the downward road of error. Having 



322 THE SIN OF THE PHARISEES. 

perverted one passage, he has less difficulty in pervert- 
ing another ; having discarded one doctrine, he cannot 
rest until he has explained away another : until, from 
being a Pelagian, he becomes a Socinian ; from being 
a Socinian, he becomes also a Universalist ; and thence 
verges with rapid strides to infidelity : or, from being a 
fanatic, he becomes a formalist ; and thence a malignant 
bigot, or a gloomy, scornful skeptic ! 

Thus it is, also, that he who begins to interpret Scrip- 
ture by tradition, seldom ends until he has lost sight of 
Scripture in his traditions, and all regard for truth and 
righteousness in his greater deference to the tithe of 
mint, anise, and cumin. 

There is, indeed, a closer affinity between the ration- 
alist and the traditionist than might be supposed : though 
perhaps opposed to each other on certain points, yet at 
last they meet, as on a common platform, in their efforts 
to pervert and obscure the mind of the Spirit. 

Be it considered that some of the most malignant and 
ruthless infidels have sprung from the bosom of Rome, 
as well as from the schools of rationalism ; and if there 
be so close a connection between the perversion and the 
rejection of the Scriptures, do not they who either deface 
or obscure the mind of the Spirit contract peculiar guilt? 

Can we do no more than draw an inference from the 
case of the Pharisees ? Be it so : but let no one say 
that the inference is unsupported by scriptural analogy, 
until he has pondered the testimony of St. John : " For 
I testify unto every man that heareth the words of the 
prophecy of this book, If any man shall add unto these 
things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are 



THE SIN OF THE PHARISEES. 323 

written in this book : and if any man shall take away 
from the words of the book of this prophecy, God shall 
take away his part out of the book of life, and out of 
the holy city, and from the things which are written in 
this book." 

In like manner we might show what a risk they incur 
who presume to resolve all instances of conversion into 
the power of fanatical delusion. No one can look into 
the history of Christ without perceiving that almost all 
his difficulties arose from the Pharisees ; but men are 
now just as tenacious of power and pomp as they were 
then — just as averse from any thing that tends to mor- 
tify their pride, or obstruct the gratification of their self- 
ish aspirings. The carnal mind — no matter what the 
phases of belief or of godliness it may have assumed — 
is still, as we have before noted, enmity against God. 
The fact of its making mention of God, and professing 
a regard for his honor, may be in perfect consistency 
with the fact that it is inimical to the truth of God ; and 
one of the ways in which it betrays the state of its affec- 
tions, is the very way which the Pharisees adopted to 
disparage our Saviour's miracles. 

They cannot deny that in a given instance there is all 
the scriptural evidence of a true conversion from sin 
unto holiness. The individual has showed unquestion- 
able signs of repentance and faith ; and he is abound- 
ing in all those fruits of righteousness which are by 
Jesus Christ, unto the glory and praise of God. But 
will they admit that this change has been wrought by 
the Spirit of God ? This were to admit that Christian- 
ity is true ; or, if its truth be granted, this were to 



324 THE SIN OF THE PHARISEES. 

acknowledge that God may employ other instruments 
of casting out devils besides themselves : nay, it were 
to undermine the foundation on which they have built 
their own authority! What then ? — it is only an in- 
stance of fanaticism ! it is the delusion of the devil ! — 
Thus the Pharisees' explanation of our Saviour's mira- 
cle is in reality the construction which is sometimes put 
on the striking phenomena of a revival of religion, or on 
individual instances of signal conversion. 

For myself, I dare not disparage the evidences of 
true piety, lest my own works be arraigned as witnesses 
against me ; nor forbid others to cast out devils, lest I con- 
vict myself of a greater regard for my own authority and 
influence among men than for the welfare of perishing 
souls. I dare not resolve the most benign and glorious 
effects which religion has ever produced, into fanati- 
cism, lest, with the infidel, I confound God's work with 
the work of the Evil One ; or, with the Pharisee, incur 
the guilt of blasphemy against the Holy Ghost ! 

But, however presumptuous it would be in us to say 
of any one, that he has committed a sin which God will 
never pardon ; and however difficult, or rather impossi- 
ble, it is to prove that some particular word or act con- 
stitutes the unpardonable sin — though no one has any 
scriptural reason to conclude that he has committed 
this sin, so long as he feels his need of a Saviour, and 
has a heart to believe on Christ, acknowledging his de- 
pendence on God's holy Spirit, — yet certain it is, from 
the teachings of Scripture, that " there is a sin unto 
death" — a sin which hath never forgiveness ! 

If there is not, why should Christ's ambassadors so 



THE SIN OF THE PHARISEES. 325 

often set forth the evidences of gospel truth, and aim to 
convince men of their guilt and danger ; so often call 
on them to repent and believe, and solemnly warn them 
against the imminent hazard of delay ; so often tell 
them, weeping, that they are " the enemies of the cross 
of Christ," and beseech them, " in Christ's stead, to 
be reconciled to God V ' All who are still out of Christ 
must be exposing themselves to tremendous risk — or 
the gospel is without meaning, and all preaching worse 
than a solemn farce. The sin, then, to which we allude, 
is that of final unbelief; into this all other sins may be 
resolved — all modes of skepticism and formalism — all 
covert as well as open opposition to the truth — all en- 
mity or indifference to the Redeemer's kingdom — all 
preference of self and the world to the love of souls and 
the glory of God — all neglect of opportunities — all 
resistance of conviction — all trifling with the word and 
the Spirit of God : this necessarily involves the sin 
of resisting, and of affronting, and of grieving away the 
ever-blessed Spirit of God, whose province it is to con- 
vince of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment to come, 
and without whose influences, working faith, and love, 
and purity in the heart, no one can enter the kingdom 
of God. 

Hence it is that he who has ceased to feel on the 
subject of religion ; whom no entreaties, no warnings, 
can move ; who intentionally dismisses serious thoughts 
whenever they are brought to his. mind — may have 
already committed this sin. The Spirit of God may 
have withdrawn from him ! and if so, he can never be 
brought to repentance. His peace is a false peace. 
28 



326 THE SIN OF THE PHARISEES. 

He has built his house on the sand. He will die as he 
had lived. In consequence of his resistance to the truth, 
or his endeavors to explain it away in accordance with 
his heart's lusts — having stifled his own convictions, or 
having closed his eyes against the miracles of conversion 
wrought by an omnipotent Spirit — God may have given 
him up to strong delusions, to believe a lie to his own 
destruction. Hence the danger, not only of falsifying 
and of perverting or obscuring the mind of the Spirit as 
revealed through the sacred oracles, but of trifling with 
sacred things and serious convictions ; and, by conse- 
quence, of grieving the Spirit ! 

Unbelief! this is the sin of sins — the deadly, damning 
sin ; for Christ himself has said : " He that believeth 
shall be saved ; he that believeth not shall be damned." 
Hence the unutterably solemn force of the apostolic in- 
junction — " Grieve not the Spirit /" He who has often 
by turns shuddered and wept as the solemn thoughts of 
death, judgment, and eternity came over his mind, may 
banish all serious reflection, and stifle his convictions ; 
but why should God's Spirit ever return, when once 
deliberately resisted ? 



THE WAYS OF THE WORLD. 327 



THE WAYS OF THE WORLD. 

It is remarkable that, previous to John's execution, 
Herod had not heard of Christ's miraculous works. 
The supposition that he had been for some time absent 
from his domain, might be admitted in explanation of 
the fact, were it not that the intelligence of Christ's 
miracles was as strange to his courtiers as to himself. 
Nor is it any more reasonable to suppose that, as Christ 
had then endowed his disciples with miraculons power, 
and sent them forth to act in his name, Herod was in- 
duced for the first time to attend to the report. His 
exclamation implies that he had never heard of our 
Saviour's doings before, or even known that such a per- 
sonage existed ; while the fact itself serves to prove, not 
that the commencement of Christ's ministry occasioned 
but little excitement through Judea, but simply that the 
worldly great men of those times stood aloof from the 
people, and that they did not voluntarily avail themselves 
of any opportunity for receiving religious intelligence.* 

Even now, men of this rank, especially if they are 
occupied with the affairs of civil government, are apt to 
be regardless of all religious movements — perhaps in- 
different to the spiritual operations of the church with 
which they are nominally connected. Some man of 
* Matthew xiv. 1-12. 



328 THE WAYS OF THE WORLD. 

God may appear in their immediate vicinage, preaching 
in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, to listen- 
ing thousands ; while they are as uninterested, it may 
be as ignorant of the event, as though they dwelt in a 
different planet. They do move in a different world : 
it is the world of fashion, of convivial pleasure, of poli- 
tics, or of speculation — that world to which Herod and 
his court belonged. 

At last the intelligence of some great religious move- 
ment is forced on their hearing ; and if it be not possible 
to deny the facts, they are immediately resolved into 
the force of enthusiasm or of fanaticism — some shrewd 
design for defrauding the multitude of their gains, or 
enlisting popular applause ! So, when Herod heard of 
the fame of Jesus, and was constrained to form a judg- 
ment of his mighty works, he could account for them in 
no other way than that the recently decapitated Baptist 
had risen from the dead ! 

But this is not the only particular in which Herod will 
serve to illustrate the ways of the world. Because Sa- 
lome had danced before him, thus ministering for a 
brief hour to the gratification of his eye, he promised 
her the half of his kingdom ! But John, who had so 
long and faithfully aimed to promote his best interests, 
is thrust into prison ; nay, the head of that holy man is 
not too great a recompense for the pleasure of seeing 
Salome dance ! 

Thus Socrates, who " passed his whole time in inci- 
ting the young and the old to care for neither body nor 
estate in preference to, or in comparison with, the 
excellence of the soul," was rewarded by imprisonment 






THE WAYS OF THE WORLD. 329 

and death ! We need not add, thus was a greater than 
Socrates repaid for a life of unparalleled self-denial in 
the cause of ruined humanity. 

So now, he who aims to correct the views and reform 
the habits of worldly men, incurs their displeasure ; 
while he who contributes to the gratification of their 
passions, may enjoy their favor. To be regarded as 
their friend, it is simply necessary to encourage, or ra- 
ther not to molest them in their ruinous courses. Of 
what account to such is any opportunity for receiving 
religious instruction, compared with an evening of con- 
vivial pleasure ? What are the teachings of the greatest 
and best of men, compared with the fascinations of the 
stage, the antics of a dancer, or the jokes of a clown ? 
— Hence it is that places of worldly amusement are 
thronged, while the sanctuaries of religion attract but 
few ; that the praise of an actor may be on every lip, 
while a faithful preacher of the gospel is too often spo- 
ken of only to be maligned ; that it is so much easier to 
raise money for a theatre than a church ; to further 
some political project than to advance the cause of 
Christianity. 

Wherever his own selfish gratification is concerned, 
there man may be all liberality ; but in matters which 
respect God's glory and the great ends of life, he be- 
trays his niggardliness, if not his malignity. Whenever 
the triumph of party demands the sacrifice of all self- 
respect, he can extol the most unsuitable candidate for 
office ; and, in like manner, he may praise and sustain 
the prophet who prophesies falsely, or utters "smooth 
things," and "plays skilfully upon an instrument;" but 



330 THE WAYS OF THE WORLD. 

all his feelings will gather into acrimony against the 
prophet who, in fidelity to his soul, tells him of his sins, 
and kindly essays to disrupt the ties that bind him to a 
soul-destroying world. 

We can hardly recall, without a tear, the sad fate that 
genius has often encountered ; but what are the so-called 
" calamities of authors" who toiled to enlarge the views 
and refine the sentiments of society, compared with the 
occasional trials of gospel ministers ? It is their lot, at 
times, not merely to struggle with want, but with oblo- 
quy — to be reviled even when they come forth to bless ! 

A wicked man can have no cordiality toward a faith- 
ful minister. He may profess regard : like Herod, he 
may do many things gladly — attend the preached word, 
and assume the posture of devotion ; but let the minis- 
ter of the sanctuary designate his besetting sin or unhal- 
lowed pursuit, and, revealing his true character, convict 
him before the bar of Heaven, as well as of his own 
conscience, of deliberately violating the principles of 
truth and duty — sacrificing the moral interests of others 
for the sake of his own selfish ends — and he goes away, 
not to repent in secret places, but to give vent to angry 
and embittered feelings. Seldom is it that any one will 
bear to be told his sin, be it only some foible of char- 
acter ; much less if that sin be of a heinous nature, and 
the guilty man has prided himself on his standing. 

Is it contended that no offence can be taken where 
none is intended, or where zeal has not degenerated 
into acrimonious rashness ? What judgment, then, must 
we pronounce, not only on such men of God as Hanani 
and Zechariah, to whom we have referred, but on John 






THE WAYS OF THE WORLD. 331 

Baptist, and the Apostle Paul, and even Christ him- 
self? 

In doubtful matters, one cannot be too slow to speak ; 
but when a practice is known to be wrong, such as the 
Bible may have singled out for emphatic reprehension, 
there is an authoritative call for prompt reproof and ear- 
nest expostulation. The greater one's guilt and the 
more imminent his danger, the more imperative is the 
duty of faithfulness on the part of the minister of the 
sanctuary ; but the greater consequently is his liability 
to the enmity, if not the revenge of a wicked man. Such 
is the opposition of the natural heart to God's authority 
— so bent is it, at times, on its unhallowed gains or 
vicious pleasures. It should then be understood, and 
duly pondered, that the manner in which one receives 
scriptural reproof, and treats his reprover, is no falla- 
cious criterion of Christian character. 

Though Herod might of his own accord have impris- 
oned the Baptist, yet is it evident that he would not 
have proceeded to the extremity of guilt, had it not been 
for the machinations of Herodias. He yielded to im- 
portunity, contrary to the convictions of his own mind, 
and to the remonstrances of his own conscience. There 
is, indeed, no probability of our being ever tempted to 
effect the imprisonment and death of a good mjan ; but 
where is the family in which there is not essential dis- 
similarity of view and feeling on the subject of religion ? 
Great as are the temptations to which the Christian is 
exposed in the relations of secular business, his most 
dangerous tempters may be under his own roof, around 
his own hearth. His example is a tacit reproof to their 



332 THE WAYS OF THE WORLD. 

worldliness ; or, through the ascendency of worldly 
views, they are mortified at what seems to them revolt- 
ing austerity or affected singularity, ignorance of the 
world or a foolish disregard for one's own interests : 
hence, he is tempted to modify his views, to compro- 
mise his principles, or to neglect some special duty. 
Thus it occasionally happens that a religious husband 
is drawn aside from his duty by the influence of an irre- 
ligious wife ; that a converted youth is diverted from the 
work of the gospel ministry by the views of paternal 
ambition ; that a gay and frivolous mother at last pre- 
vails over the religious scruples which her daughter may 
have imbibed at school, and ushers her into all the folly 
and guilt of fashionable life ; that even the minister of 
the gospel is at times betrayed, through the flatteries of 
his relatives, into a spirit of vainglory and levity of 
conduct, perhaps into worldliness. 

Thus, too, are we enabled to account for some of 
those instances of injustice and passion which are so 
difficult to be reconciled with our knowledge of previ- 
ous character : one defrauding his creditors, lest family 
pride should be humbled ; another, though a man of 
plain habits, suddenly affecting family splendor ; another, 
though not devoid of either mind or conscience, feeling 
himself insulted by the gospel message ; and another, a 
man of naturally kind and amiable feelings, incensed at 
some imaginary wrong, or pertinaciously cherishing the 
most malicious prejudice. 

The moral dangers of the domestic relation arise from 
the desirableness of living in harmony with those with 
whom we are necessarily brought in contact ; from our 



THE WAYS OF THE WORLD. 333 

natural unwillingness to disoblige those to whom we are 
related ; and then, again, from the facilities which the 
family relation affords for the gradual development of a 
scheme, or for seizing on the best possible opportunity. 
There, every member is naturally free and unrestrained, 
suspicionless and open ; and, as no one thinks of being 
on his guard against those with whom he is connected by 
ties naturally so endearing — whose worldly interest is 
one and the same — hence the advantage which any un- 
principled or artful member has for effecting a sinister 
purpose. 

Herodias, though the king would not yield to her 
wishes, did not despair : she watched her opportunity, 
and found it when he had forgotten himself in an hour 
of riotous festivity. So has many a person been be- 
trayed into a promise which it was alike sinful to make, 
and difficult to break — enticed to scenes which his 
Christian profession forbade him to witness — drawn 
away from the sanctuary, and led into a life of worldli- 
ness, until at last the tempted becomes the tempter ! 

Strong and lasting is the influence of the family rela- 
tion ; and therefore the Christian cannot pause too long 
before cementing a union with an irreligious person. If 
Christ's foes were those of his own household, itneeds 
not excite our surprise should the afch-adversary of 
souls seek his agents among those from whom w T e look 
for regard, and in whom w T e naturally confide. 

There are times when innocent enjoyments dispose 
us to thoughtlessness, or when unexpected occurrences 
incline us to frivolity — when success is apt to inflate 
us with pride, or disappointment to render us gloomy 



334 THE WAYS OF THE WORLD. 

and despondent ; and these are ordinarily the convenient 
times for the Great Tempter : and, though it may seem 
a trivial matter if, in order to gratify the wishes of oth- 
ers, or to secure their favorable opinion, we yield to 
temptation but only once — yet, by so doing, we have 
impaired the strength of our principles, and perhaps 
fatally wounded the integrity of our souls. 

Herod's subsequent crimes are all directly traceable 
to his unlawful marriage ; as the enormities of Domitian 
may be traced to a seemingly insignificant circumstance 
in his early life. No man becomes a villain at once ; 
and no one knows what will be the uLtimate consequen- 
ces of yielding to any temptation. At first he only con- 
ceals the truth ; then tells a deliberate falsehood ; and 
finally perjures himself! At first he indulges only in 
irritated feelings, or petty malice ; at last, sheds a broth- 
er's blood, and blasphemes his Maker ! He thinks 
there is no harm, much less danger, in indulging the 
lusts of the eye : ere long he is apprehended for theft, 
or convicted of adultery ! He has taken only a little 
advantage of his neighbor : now he deliberately aims to 
overreach, and ends by forging another's name, or by 
sacrificing another's life for gain ! Is it unnecessary to 
multiply instances ? We are convinced that one sin 
leads on, by a necessary connection, to another and a 
greater : but who bears this in mind, or takes timely 
warning ? Does the idler ? No ; or he would at once 
betake himself to some employment, be it only for the 
sake of employment, lest, through the oppressive vacuity 
of idleness, he seek the excitement of the damning bowl ; 
or, through the embarrassment of his affairs, be allured 



THE WAYS OF THE WORLD. 335 

to the gambler's hell. — Does the lover of high life ? No ; 
or he would earnestly sue for an humble heart, foresee- 
ing the abyss that awaits him, and perhaps his family, 
should he persist in those extravagances which lead, by 
necessary steps, to profligacy and ruin! — Does the 
Christian professor? Why, then, are so many undis- 
tinguished from the world, though they were once most 
circumspect? They meant to sin but once only; and 
that was a little sin ! But now they can violate the 
Lord's day, and feel no compunction ; now they can 
frequent haunts of vicious amusement, and presume to 
justify themselves ; now they can habitually neglect even 
the private duties of religion ! Nor did that youth, who 
had been religiously educated, consider this ; or he 
would have paused before he suffered any worldly com- 
pany or feelings of lassitude to keep him from the house 
of God : he may go on, attending with less and less reg- 
ularity, until at last he not only deserts the sanctuary, 
but forswears his father's God ! 

It is indeed hazardous to yield to any temptation, but 
still more dangerous to persist in any known sin. In 
the former case, the world gradually obtains an insensi- 
ble control over our hearts ; in the latter, we abandon 
all regard for principle, and lose all sense of sin : and 
the only reason we have not omitted other duties, and 
committed other sins, is simply because we have not 
yet been suitably tempted. Herod's governing princi- 
ple of action could have had no reference to any thing 
without or beyond himself. He would have imprisoned 
the Baptist long before, had he not feared the people. 
He was, indeed, shocked at Salome's scandalous re- 



336 THE WAYS OF THE WORLD. 

quest ; but, having been so positive in his offer, and 
that, too, in the presence of his guests, he was really 
ashamed to refuse, rather than perplexed by any con- 
scientious scruples respecting his oath : and now, to 
please the people, this same Herod that beheaded John, 
delivers up Jesus to be insulted and scourged ! 

But even this act of consummate injustice and wrong 
need not excite our surprise. In relation to Christ, he 
acted precisely as a man invested with authority might 
have been expected to act, whose understanding had 
been perverted and conscience seared by protracted 
indulgence in known sin. As a vessel without a helm 
is driven to and fro according to the shifting direction 
of the winds, so a man without moral principle must be 
impelled from one crime to another, according to the 
directing force of his depraved interests. There can 
be no moral impediment in the way of murder to one 
who, in defiance of the law of Heaven, lives in adultery ; 
or of perjury, to one who habitually violates truth ; or 
of swindling, to one who accustoms himself to over- 
reaching in little matters. Hence it is that he who 
knowingly offends in one point, is guilty of disobeying 
the authority of the whole law. Though the offence 
may be seemingly trivial, the authority of the Lawgiver 
is as truly discarded as though it had been a palpable 
crime. If God has said, " Thou shalt not kill," is it 
not the same Being who has said, " Thou shalt not hate 
thy brother in thine heart?" If God has said, "Thou 
shalt not commit adultery," is it not the same holy Being 
who has specified and prohibited the adultery of the eye ? 
If God has said, " Thou shalt not take the name of the 



THE WAYS OF THE WORLD. 337 

Lord thy God in vain," has he not also, and with no 
less distinctness, declared that "for every false and ma- 
licious word men speak they shall give account?" 

We recoil from flagrant acts of wickedness ; but how 
obvious is it that he who refuses to surrender his will 
to God, even in little matters, betrays the same want of 
loyalty to Heaven ! His seeming obedience in other 
respects is prompted, not by a sense of duty, but by 
expediency, or by a regard to his own selfish interests ; 
his morality is determined, not by his conscience, but 
by his temperament : other things being equal, he may 
yet habitually violate some great commandment with as 
little compunction as he now hugs his secret sin. 

It is not unusual for those who may be indulging 
some unchristian passion, or pursuing some iniquitous 
course of conduct, to felicitate themselves that they have 
not yielded to other temptations ; and sometimes such 
regard themselves as fair candidates for heaven, because 
they are not chargeable with heinous breaches of mo- 
rality, and do respect religion and its ordinances. But 
the Divine law is uncompromising, as well as " exceed- 
ing broad:" "Put her away" — "Deny thyself" — 
" Pluck it out" — "Cut it off." 

Herod did many things gladly — paid more attention 
to his public duties, showed more kindness and com- 
passion, more regard for equity, and, it may be, for the 
public worship of God : and doubtless hoped by his 
partial reformation to avert the Divine judgments with 
which John had threatened him. But these politic ob- 
servances did not impose on the Baptist: "Put her 
away," was the reiterated charge of the stern herald of 

29 



338 THE WAYS OF THE WORLD. 

Heaven's vengeance. ' In vain are all your observances 
and oblations, so long as you retain Herodias. Repent 
of that sin by putting her away, or you cannot enter the 
kingdom of heaven.' 

It matters not, therefore, what one may do to propi- 
tiate Heaven, so long as he retains any unlawful gain, 
or clings to any sinful gratification. His moralities can- 
not make amends for his secret sin, nor his ceremonial 
for his neglect of private duties. In the eye of God's 
law, no one virtue can be offset against a known sin ; 
nor can any sacrifice compensate for any sinful indul- 
gence. Obedience it requires, and nothing short of 
cordial, unreserved, uniform, and complete obedience, 
can meet its spiritual demands. He must indeed be a 
stranger to the teachings of the Bible, who presumes to 
think that God's law can overlook defective obedience, 
much less any known omission of duty. Could its de- 
mands have been in any wise relaxed, the Son of God 
would not have been made the curse of the law for us ; 
and yet, though he died to render the pardon of the sin- 
ner consistent with the claims of a holy and inviolable 
authority, " he is the end of the law for righteousness" 
only to him " that believeth." To believe in him, ne- 
cessarily implies repentance for sin, and a desire, and 
aim, and constant endeavor, to be delivered from its 
power ; and therefore, aside from all reference to that 
perfect obedience which the law requires, no one can 
scripturally regard himself as a believer in Christ, who 
does not in all things aim to do as Christ has com- 
manded. In fact, the great object of his mission was, 
to unfold the spiritual import and extent of the law — to 



THE WAYS OF THE WORLD. 339 

illustrate its purity, and enforce its authority ; and noth- 
ing is more evident, from the whole tenor of his teach- 
ings, than the superiority of moral conduct required 
of those who profess to believe in him and hope in 
his salvation. If a man will not examine himself in 
the light of Christ's requirements, he may easily deceive 
himself as to his true character ; but if he will, he may 
as easily ascertain wherein he is still grossly culpable, 
or what may be his besetting sin. There is but one 
method by which any man can come to a knowledge of 
his moral self; and should its adoption not lead to so 
important a result, it will be owing, not to a want of 
scriptural criteria of character, but solely to the absence 
of that humility and candor with which the work of self- 
examination should be prosecuted. 

He who would promote his spiritual well-being by 
growing conformity of heart and life to the requisitions 
of duty, will not be backward to scrutinize his motives as 
well as his actions. He may say to himself: ' Though 
I may not be addicted to any vices, nor chargeable with 
either dishonesty, intemperance, or lewdness, yet am I 
not either covetous or penurious ? am I not ambitious, 
or proud and passionate, or envious and revengeful? 
am I not vain of this possession, or that acquirement — 
fond of personal display, or of selfish and sensual grati- 
fications ? Though I am moral, have I the evidence of 
having been regenerated by the Spirit of God ? Or, as 
I have named the name of Christ, am I careful to depart 
from all iniquity — even to avoid the appearance of evil ? 
Am I cherishing any one feeling, or doing any one 
thing, at variance with the integrity of my professed 



340 THE WAYS OF THE WORLD. 

belief in him whose example I am bound to follow?' — 
" To him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, 
to him it is sin." — " If any man among you seerrieth to 
be religious, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth 
his own heart, that man's religion is vain." Though he 
conform to Christ's precepts in every other respect, that 
man's religion is hypocrisy — his unbridled tongue be- 
trays him ! The man in the parable who received the 
one talent was neither a thief nor a murderer, nor had 
he wasted his lord's goods : he pleaded that he had done 
no harm ; but he was negligent and slothful, and, being 
an unprofitable servant, he was condemned to outer 
darkness ! 

In asserting, however, that indulgence in any known 
sin is incompatible with a scriptural hope in the Divine 
favor, I do not refer to those who live in lack of knowl- 
edge — though such, when their eye is opened, and their 
heart changed, mourn over their sins of ignorance ; nor 
do I allude to the temptations of Christians : they are 
sometimes suddenly overcome, — though they humble 
and abhor themselves whenever thus surprised into 
sin, and are led to greater watchfulness and prayer. 
I have reference solely to known sins — to things neg- 
lected and things done which we know, and, whenever 
we can be induced to reflect with calmness, feel, to be 
wrong ; and if the day is not far distant when " every 
one of us shall give account of himself to God," no one 
can be too solicitous to ascertain how stands his reckon- 
ing with the high and holy One ! 

Is there an Herodias whom he will not put away? 
Then he denies God's authority, and stands convicted 



THE WAYS OF THE WORLD. 341 

of deliberate rebellion against God ! Though he may 
be free from outward vices, or regular in his devotions, 
yet, if there is any sinful indulgence he will not forego 
— any cross he will not take up for Christ's sake — it is 
clear that he loves the interests of self more than the 
honor of Christ, and therefore cannot be his disciple. 
Nay, if there be one duty which he knowingly omits — 
one sin which he knowingly cherishes, this single com- 
mission, or that single omission — as the word of the 
Lord abideth — shall, except he repent, be his ruin ! It 
is an offending member ; and, if it be not cut off, it will 
cast him into hell ! 

To demur at this conclusion, is to convict one's self 
of being actuated by that carnal mind which is enmity 
against God — which, until renewed by the Spirit of 
God, is always pertinaciously reluctant to submit to his 
authority. Hence, it is as certain as that God is holy 
and man a sinner, either God must change or man sub- 
mit. Though his sin be dear to him as " the apple of 
his eye," he must put it away by repentance, or he can- 
not be saved. 

29* 



342 THE DYING PENITENT. 



THE DYING PENITENT. 

In the closing scene of our Saviour's life, various 
circumstances unite to render his death at once the 
most painful and humiliating. He is betrayed by a kiss 
— deserted by his friends — condemned by false wit- 
nesses. He is mocked, buffeted, scourged, spit upon — 
crowned with thorns — compelled to bear his own cross : 
and now, he is suspended on the cross between two 
malefactors, and thus held up to universal scorn. 

But these circumstances of suffering and ignominy, 
as has been often observed, served to invest his person 
with transcendent radiance — to attest the divinity of his 
life, and the glory of his death. Meekness is opposed 
to insult, patience to suffering, and tenderness to cruelty. 
In proportion to the depth of his own woes, is his com- 
passion for others — to the ignominy of the cross, is the 
grandeur of the victim — to the degradation of the man, 
is the exaltation of the God ! 

We are limited by our subject to a simple incident 
in connection with the Crucifixion ; but this by itself 
were sufficient to rebuke all skepticism as to the claims 
of Jesus, and to induce a harmony of view in relation 
to the whole essential doctrine of the gospel. Nowhere 
else in the Past can we meet with a scene which, while 



THE DYING PENITENT. 343 

it appeals so forcibly to our sensibilities, conveys such 
precious truths and solemn warnings. If duly weighed, 
it must silence the cavilling, though it fail to convince ; 
encourage the despairing, and alarm the procrastinating 
■ — strengthen the Christian's faith, and cheer his dying 
hour. Unlike the incidents in profane history, it has a 
relation to our spiritual interests and deathless aspira- 
tions ; and though the former may awaken inquiries of 
moment to the philosophic mind, this opens a train of 
thought in keeping with the great end of God's Revela- 
tion to a fallen world — for it speaks to us of sin and of 
redemption, of penitence and of pardon, of faith and of 
works, of grace and glory.-- 

Here is one who had lived in sin ; whose crimes had 
exposed him to capital punishment ; who in the estima- 
tion of the people was less to be pitied than even Barab- 
bas ; who, according to his own acknowledgment, was 
justly condemned to death ; and who at first probably 
joined with his companion in crime, and with the hard- 
ened Jews, in reviling Jesus. 

Luke does not advert to this circumstance ; but the 
other evangelists, after recording the vituperative lan- 
guage which the scribes and elders used toward the suf- 
fering Jesus, distinctly state that " the thieves also which 
were crucified with him, cast the same in his teeth." 
The manner in which this fact is spoken of by the dif- 
ferent writers is, however, simply one of many instances 
which might be adduced in evidence, that they were 
guilty of no collusion ; and it is this which secures to 
their respective narratives the strongest argument in 
* Luke xxiii. 42, 43. 



34:4 THE DYING PENITENT. 

favor of their authenticity, that of substantial truth amid 
circumstantial variety. 

To my mind, it is not improbable that this malefac- 
tor, whose case is so remarkable, was induced at first to 
accord with the sentiments of the chief-priests and elders, 
in the hope that they, from motives of party-spirit, would 
interpose in his behalf; and that while he was thus mock- 
ing Jesus, he was struck with the conviction that this 
man who hung by his side — suffering with so much 
patience, and praying for his murderers — was indeed 
the Son of God : as there have been occasional instances 
of wicked men being transfixed with remorse and dread, 
just as some horrid blasphemy had escaped their lips. 

Some have supposed that the change in his mind was 
caused by the fear of death. But if that alone could 
have influenced his feelings, he would have awaked to 
a sense of his condition during the interval that elapsed 
between his sentence and his execution. The signs of 
true penitence are not to be looked for in the case of 
one who is undergoing the penalty of violated law. 

Nor is it probable that his confession of guilt sprung 
from interested motives. It was too late to hope for a 
pardon ; while his acknowledgment of Christ's innocence 
could have served only to exasperate his judges. 

Or, that his confession was extorted by physical suf- 
fering, is a supposition equally unreasonable. His lan- 
guage is indicative of clear thought and dispassionate 
conviction. Realizing the justness of his punishment, 
he takes shame to himself for his crimes. Convinced 
of the Saviour's innocence, he rebukes the raillery of 
his companion — virtually saying to him, that, as they 



THE DYING PENITENT. 345 

are suffering the same punishment, they should compas- 
sionate one another ; that as he will shortly stand before 
God in judgment, it behooves him to think of other 
things than reviling an innocent man : " Dost thou not 
fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation ? 
And we indeed justly ; for we receive the due reward 
of our deeds : but this man hath done nothing amiss." 
And then, turning to Jesus, he said, " Lord, remember 
me when thou comest into thy kingdom :" feeling him- 
self to be unworthy of his regard, all he asks is, one 
kind remembrance ; that Christ would deign to think of 
him — a poor, lost sinner ! 

Here is an humble confession of guilt and ill desert ; 
a proper rebuke of iniquity ; an exhortation to a fellow- 
sinner to fear God and prepare to die ; a fearless vindi- 
cation of Christ's character ; a heartfelt homage to his 
majesty ; a perception of the spirituality of his kingdom, 
and confidence in his power to save. He who was 
condemned as a malefactor, and is now expiring amid 
the tortures of the crucifixion, feels and speaks as a 
Christian ! 

So striking is the moral change which he has under- 
gone, that, unless we experience the same — no matter 
what has been our past character, however amiable our 
disposition and exemplary our conduct — we cannot en- 
ter the kingdom of heaven : for, " except a man be born 
again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." So decided 
are the evidences of his conversion to God, that unless 
we can present essentially the same, we have no scrip- 
tural reason for believing that we have been renewed by 
the Holy Spirit. 



346 THE DYING PENITENT. 

If, in his last hour, this man showed his faith by his 
works, it is evident that faith, under any circumstances, 
without works, is dead. He is as different from his 
former self as from his partner in condemnation. That 
heart so lately hardened by crime, is now dissolved in 
grief; those lips so lately filled with cursing and bitter- 
ness, now open in accents of confession. While the 
other blasphemes, he prays ; while the other responds 
to the cruel mockings of the Jews, he fearlessly bears 
witness to the Saviour's innocence ; while the other 
braves the thought of death and eternity, he feels his 
need of mercy, and humbly sues for a place in his 
remembrance who, with himself, is in a moment to give 
up the ghost ! 

Wonderful transformation ! most mysterious faith ! 
Throughout the evangelic records, I know of nothing 
that surprises me more than the conversion of this man ; 
that under circumstances so adverse, he should exhibit 
such a power and reach of faith — such spirituality of 
mind ! 

What a spectacle this, for Christ's disciples! — to 
see one of the thieves that are crucified with him, 
brought to a sense of his sins — putting his trust in the 
Lord their God — longing for a better country, even a 
heavenly ; and to see Christ, from the cross, " as from 
a throne, dispensing pardons, and disposing of seats in 
Paradise!" 

But our imagination has ascribed to the disciples 
views and emotions to which they were strangers. 
Though they had walked with Jesus in sweet compan- 
ionship, and hung on his lips of wisdom, and witnessed 



THE DYING PENITENT. 347 

his wonderful works, and seen him transfigured on the 
Mount, and heard a voice from the excellent glory, de- 
claring him to be the Son of God ; though it had been 
repeatedly intimated to them that the Son of man would 
be betrayed and crucified, that by his resurrection he 
might be declared the Son of God with power ; though 
they had been cautioned against the fear of man, and 
strengthened against the day of trial ; and had even 
declared that they would be true to Christ: yet now — 
where are they? 

Among all who followed Jesus, not one is there to 
attest his innocence. Strange to tell, though so many 
had believed on him when they saw his mighty works, 
and had left all to follow him, yet the only one from 
whom Jesus hears a word in his behalf, is a dying thief! 
The disciples have all fled. The moment Christ was 
led forth to be crucified, darkness, as of death, came 
over the prospects which had so lately ravished their 
hearts : they gave up all for lost ! Nor is this to be 
wondered at, What could have been so contrary to 
their views, and abhorrent from their feelings, as that he 
whom they had believed to be the Son of God, should 
be condemned as a culprit at Pilate's bar"? that he whom 
they had fondly hoped would redeem Israel, should be 
crucified between two thieves V Methinks the idea 
might have been most naturally forced on their minds, 
that had he been indeed the Christ, he would have pal- 
sied the perjured tongues that witnessed against him, or 
withered the arm that was raised to nail him to the 
cross. To see their blessed Master the object of scorn, 
the victim of malice ! to think that God would permit 



348 THE DYING PENITENT. 

such an outrage on justice and humanity — his beloved 
Son to be thus by wicked hands crucified and slain ! — 
must have been a trial to their faith of which we can 
form but a feeble conception. 

But the thief, though he had been no follower of 
Christ, at once saw through the mystery of the cross, 
and beheld, in the victim of hellish cruelty, the Lamb 
of God ! in the despised and deserted man, the Lord 
of glory ! in the suffering, bleeding, dying Jesus, the 
true God and eternal life ! Was faith ever more di- 
rectly opposed to sense ? Could faith be put to a severer 
trial, or effect a more resplendent triumph ? 

Moreover, the disciples had but little if any concep- 
tion of a spiritual kingdom. In common with their 
nation, and notwithstanding Christ's instructions to them, 
they looked on the " Messiah that should come" as a 
temporal prince and deliverer : for this reason they, with 
the chief priests, might have thought that, had he been 
the promised Messiah, " he would have saved himself, 
and come down from the cross." 

But the thief discerned at once the true nature of the 
kingdom of God : he knew that though Christ would 
not get down from the cross, he would come up from 
the dead. To his spiritual eye, he whom demons in 
human shape now execrate, will soon be adored by ho- 
liest angels : that reed will be exchanged for the sceptre 
of the universe ; that platted crown of thorns, for the 
diadem of the skies ; that ignominious cross, for a throne 
of eternal glory ! 

It was the sufferings of Christ that caused the disci- 
ples to doubt his Messiahship ; and it was these same 



THE DYING PENITENT. 349 

sufferings, also, that led the thief to believe that Christ 
was indeed the Son of God — the King of Israel! 
Such patience under sufferings the most grievous ; such 
meekness under injuries and insults the most wanton ; 
such unrepining submission to the will of his heavenly 
Father ; such irrepressible compassion for his enemies 
— such a prayer for their forgiveness ! — surely this man 
is neither a malefactor nor an impostor. ' No ; though 
others may desert or revile thee, I believe that thou art 
the Christ, the Son of the most high God ! Dying as 
I am, and justly for my crimes, I would trust my soul 
to thee. Tell me only that thou, Lord, wilt think of 
me when thou comest into thy kingdom, and I die in 
peace !' 

How are we to account for this singular conversion ? 
Will it be said that the thief was previously acquainted 
with Christ's character, and with the design of his mis- 
sion '? Being a Jew, he might have had some general 
knowledge of the ancient prophecies of his nation re- 
specting the coming Messiah ; but while the faith of the 
disciples was staggered by the cross, is it probable that 
one who had never followed Jesus as the Christ, would 
suddenly recognise in a condemned and dying man — 
his fellow- sufferer on the cross — the subject of proph- 
ecy, and the fulfilment of the promise ? Or, he might 
have heard of the doctrines which Christ had promulged, 
and of the miracles which he had wrought ; but is it 
probable that a man of his character, whose associates 
must have been among the vilest of the people, had ac- 
credited any other reports respecting Christ than such 
as his enemies had circulated ? 

30 



350 THE DYING PENITENT. 

Giving, however, to these considerations all the weight 
which any might contend for, why had they not an equal 
influence over the feelings of the other thief? He also 
was a Jew, and had probably the same educational im- 
pressions, with equal facilities for ascertaining the truth. 

Is it suggested that the one had more natural sensi- 
bility and more candor than the other? This might ac- 
count for the penitent thief's acknowledgment of Christ's 
innocence, and his own compassion for suffering virtue 
— for his consciousness and confession of ill desert ; but 
what connection there can be between any natural qual- 
ities, and a perception, under the circumstances in which 
he was placed, of Christ's divinity, together with implicit 
trust in his atoning mediation, and his ability to confer 
everlasting happiness, is too impalpable to be explained, 
if it could be apprehended. 

The fact is, no external difference can be discerned 
in the relative position of these two malefactors ; no ad- 
vantage in the one case that was not enjoyed by the 
other ; no obstacle to the one that did not equally oppose 
the conversion of the other. The same by birth and 
education — the same in crime and condemnation — the 
one could have had no national views in which the 
other did not share ; no love of vice, no aversion from 
goodness, no recklessness of consequences, which did 
not naturally result from the habits of the other. Sus- 
pended on either side of the cross to which the Saviour 
was nailed, they both knew that their days were num- 
bered ; and the one as well as the other had the same 
opportunity of knowing that Jesus had done nothing 
amiss. If the one feared God, so might the other. If the 



THE DYING PENITENT. 351 

one confessed his sins, and felt his need of mercy — if 
he believed Christ to be the Lord of life, and believed 
on him with the heart unto righteousness — what was 
there to prevent the other? And yet, in neither case, 
was there any probability of unfeigned sorrow for sin, 
— much less of heartfelt faith in the suffering Jesus. 
Granting to both all those powers which constitute free 
moral agency ; say that they both believed in a future 
state of rewards and punishments, and both felt how 
unprepared they were to die, — is it not abstractly most 
improbable that either of them, of himself, should turn 
to one who, like themselves, had been condemned as a 
malefactor — whom the Jews were insulting and deri- 
ding in every possible way — whose extremity of suffer- 
ing and humiliation seemed to be a fearful refutation of 
his claims to the Messiahship — and embrace him as the 
Saviour of lost sinners ? 

Unable, therefore, to account for his conversion on 
secondary principles, we refer it directly to the interpo- 
sition of Almighty grace. As we cannot doubt the truth 
of the narrative, no more can we hesitate to admit the 
hand of God in this conversion. Jn such a case, to 
withhold our credence in the special agency of his Holy 
Spirit — enlightening the mind of that poor thief with 
the knowledge of the truth, changing his heart, and fit- 
ting him for heaven — would be to do discredit to the 
inspired record. 

There was nothing in the past life of the one, more 
than of the other, to recommend him to the favor of 
God. In neither case was there any claim on the Di- 
vine mercy : both had alike forfeited their lives, at once 



352 THE DYING PENITENT. 

to the law of man and to the law of God ; both, for their 
sins, deserved eternal death, as for their crimes they were 
legally suffering punishment. Had both died in their 
sins, neither could have impeached the justice of God ; 
and that one of two men, equally criminal, was in this, 
the last hour of his life, brought to repentance and faith, 
only serves to prove that " God has mercy on whom he 
will have mercy," Yes ; had it not been for the grace 
of God, that one, like his partner in crime, would have 
died reviling the meek and lowly Jesus. 

Such an instance seems designed to teach us that the 
Gospel is a dispensation of grace ; that none of our 
fallen race have a claim on the mercy of God ; and that 
if any are saved, the praise of their salvation must 
redound to the riches of his grace through Jesus Christ. 

From the adaptedness of God's word and ordinances 
to the conversion of sinners, we are apt to ascribe to 
the means of grace an efficiency which belongs exclu- 
sively to a Divine agent : hence, some have denied the 
necessity of any special influence of God's Spirit in 
man's conversion — even as others, from the operation 
of second causes in the material world, have denied a 
particular providence. The ordinary course of events 
fails to arrest attention : it is only instances of an ex- 
traordinary nature that strike the mind, and these lead 
us at once and involuntarily to refer our unexpected 
deliverance from some temporal ill, or our unexpected 
success in life, to the beneficent interposition of a higher 
agency than man can exert. So, lest man should take 
the praise of his conversion to himself — that we might 
be led to adore Him as the author and finisher, as well 



THE DYING PENITENT. 353 

as the revealer of our faith — in the instance before us 
he has, as it were, drawn aside the veil which con- 
ceals from our view the ordinary operations of his Spirit, 
and disclosed himself to us, in all the fulness and free- 
ness of his sovereign and omnipotent grace. 

But how illustrious does Christ appear in his answer 
to the penitent's supplication ! Let the skeptic calmly 
ask himself whether Jesus Christ, when he hung in 
ignominy and agony on the cross, could have ventured 
to pardon a dying malefactor, and to assure him that he 
should that day be with himself in Paradise, had he not 
been the co-eternal, co-equal Son of God. Under cir- 
cumstances so trying to flesh and blood, so appalling to 
the heart of man, even when fortified by the conscious- 
ness of integrity, was it possible for him, unless indeed 
the Christ, to maintain the character which he had pre- 
viously exhibited ? 

See the blessed Jesus ! — his hands are spiked to the 
arms of that cross : a spear has been thrust into his side ; 
and now his enemies wag their heads, and point at him 
the finger of scorn, and, with a hellish laugh, bid him 
save himself; or, bowing before him in mock obsequi- 
ousness, cry — "Hail, king of the Jews!" 

Was there ever such an accumulation of woes on a 
beins; so innocent? Were fouler insults ever added to 
pain so excruciating? We cannot recall the treatment 
he received without feelings of the keenest indignation ; 
and yet, amid all these circumstances, exasperating to 
the last degree, the innocent sufferer is neither roused 
to anger, nor dead to compassion. 

30* 



354 THE DYING PENITENT. 

To be unjustly condemned, yet to submit without a 
murmur ; to be mocked, yet to niaintain the meekest 
silence ; to be dying in physical torture, yet to triumph 
over human weaknesses without betraying any insensi- 
bility ; to be crucified between two thieves, and to pray 
for the forgiveness of the one who reviled him, and to 
confer an assurance of immortal blessedness on the 
other who besought his remembrance — O ye who would 
do homage to greatness, render it to the crucified 
Jesus ! 

In view of such a scene, who can doubt that Christ 
died for sinners ? What but compassion for the souls 
of men, could have sustained him amid his sufferings, 
and borne him above insult and ignominy ? In the 
agonies of his own death, to have communicated spir- 
itual life, who is this, but the only-begotten of the Father, 
full of grace and truth? For what end could he have 
stooped to earth, and taken the form of a servant, and 
exposed himself to suffering and the cross, but that man 
might be delivered from the bitter pains of eternal death ? 
While pain racked his frame, and eyes bespeaking ma- 
licious joy stared him in the face — then, to have lis- 
tened to the cry of penitence — O love ineffable, match- 
less, boundless, godlike ! While all the powers of earth 
and hell seemed to triumph over him, his grace triumphed 
over sin and death ! 

But that God who displayed his sovereign mercy in 
the case of the thief on the cross, still reigns ; that 
Saviour who answered to his cry, now lives to intercede 
for sinners ; and that Spirit who brought him to feel his 



THE DYING PENITENT. 355 

need of mercy, still exercises his prerogative in bringing 
men to a sense of sin, and of righteousness, and of 
judgment. Every Christian has reason to admire the 
free grace of God in his own conversion ; while there 
is scarce one who has not, at some period of his history, 
been rebuked for his presumption in limiting God's mer- 
cy. The clearer our views of the nature of sin, and the 
deeper our conviction of God's holiness and justice, the 
more apt are we to doubt the possibility of true repent- 
ance in the last hour of a life which had been devoted 
to the world. Yet such are the cases which God some- 
times selects to show forth the exceeding fulness and 
freeness of his grace. Who would have anticipated the 
prodigal's return to his father ? Who would have sup- 
posed that the blasphemous and persecuting Saul of 
Tarsus could obtain mercy ? Much less, that a felon, 
while in the act of expiating his crimes by his life's 
blood, would obtain the promise of eternal life ; while 
dying in shame and agony, be filled with joy unspeak- 
able and full of glory ! But so have I seen a youth 
brought to repentance, when he seemed to have been 
abandoned of God and lost to hope ; and even the man 
of threescore years and ten, brought to hope in God's 
mercy, just as the near approach of death had awakened 
him to an appalling sense of his undone condition. We 
need not, however, multiply instances of the kind : God 
has proclaimed himself to be, and he is now, " merciful 
and gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in goodness 
and truth." 

If, therefore, the most reckless have at times been 
arrested — if the grace of God has sometimes poured 



356 THE DYING PENITENT. 

the light and joy of heaven on the soul which but a me- 
ment since was transfixed with the dread of an unpre- 
pared eternity — how much more shall they receive 
mercy who are seeking Him sorrowing ! 

Every instance of conversion seems to intimate that 
neither wickedness can frustrate nor moralities conciliate 
His grace. To God must be ascribed all the glory of 
man's conversion. Hence, he who is given up by man, 
is sometimes received by God. Hence the instances 
where grace has triumphed in the last hour of a wicked 
life. Hence, the thoughtless worldling and the jeering 
infidel are often arrested, while the moralist and the 
formalist are in general left to their own righteousness. 

If I am inclined to despair of any one, it is not of 
him whose mind is given up to the pursuits of the world, 
or whose heart has been seduced by the pleasures of 
sense ; not of him whose life is deformed by vice, or 
whose crimes have even rendered him obnoxious to 
civil justice : it is of him rather who boasts of his mo- 
ralities, and is hoping by his Pharisaism to recommend 
himself to the Divine favor. 

Let me be called to visit the death-bed of any one 
rather than that of the self-righteous, Such a one will 
cling to the delusive mantle of his own weaving, and 
expect to be saved because he was an honest man, a 
good citizen, a kind neighbor, or an affectionate parent. 
It matters not how wicked may have been one's life — 
let me see him smitten with a sense of his sins, and hear 
him cry for mercy, even as a criminal pleading for his 
life, and I have hope concerning that poor sinner. Only 
let me see him at last relying with an humble, affectionate, 



THE DYING PENITENT. 357 

childlike reliance on the mercy of God through Jesus 
Christ, and I can believe that before the going down of 
his last sun on earth, his soul will be imparadised with 
Jesus. 

Let it not be said that we disparage virtue and en- 
courage vice. Remember the declaration of Christ him- 
self : " I came not to call the righteous, but sinners, to 
repentance." As it is difficult to insist on faith in Christ 
as the only ground of man's salvation, without giving 
occasion for the perversion of this doctrine — that the 
gospel tends to licentiousness — so is it equally difficult 
to extol the mercy and grace of God without giving 
occasion for unwarranted hopes — to guard the mind 
against despair, on the one hand, without leading to 
presumption on the other. 

But this case constitutes an argument not less weighty 
against presumption during life, than despair in the hour 
of death. View it in whatever light, it is most peculiar. 
It was designed to honor an extraordinary occasion, and 
therefore cannot be legitimately viewed as a precedent. 
It was a moral miracle, wrought to attest the sovereignty 
and freeness of God's grace — the efficacy of Christ's 
atoning blood — the omnipotency of his saving arm; 
and therefore there can be deduced from it no encour- 
agement whatever — not the shadow of a reason for de- 
cs 

laying repentance to a dying hour. Like the conversion 
of Saul of Tarsus, though it proves that God may at 
any time arrest a sinner, and that no true penitent 
should at any time despair of the Divine forgiveness, 
yet it in no wise invalidates the necessity of using those 
means of grace which God has instituted ; nor affords 



358 THE DYING PENITENT. 

any ground for the presumption that, in his own time 
and way, God will arrest the man who persists in de- 
spising his forbearance. Let it be recollected that Saul 
sinned " ignorantly in unbelief;" and that the dying 
thief had not knowingly rejected the Messiah, nor de- 
liberately procrastinated repentance. 

Moreover, it should be considered that, among all the 
conversions recorded in the Scriptures, this is the only 
instance of one having been brought to repentance in 
the last hour of his life. If this be the most suitable 
time, why were not other instances recorded? Why 
did the apostles preach to any, save the sick and the 
dying? Why so many cautions against delay? — so 
many solemn allusions to the shortness, the uncertainty 
of time — the danger of hardening the heart, of grieving 
the Spirit, of treasuring up wrath against the day of 
wrath, by despising the riches of God's goodness? — ■ 
to the aggravated guilt of neglecting Christ's great sal- 
vation ? 

It is not surprising that but one instance is found in 
the word of God. Cases of the kind are so rare, that 
they may be regarded as strictly extraordinary. Worldly 
men, when brought down to the gates of death, do often 
think of the interests of their souls ; but it is in general 
only to regret that they have neglected their inestimable 
privileges ; it is to feel that, by procrastination, they have 
committed a mistake which may be irreparable — to 
awake to the conviction that the very time to which they 
postponed their repentance, is the most unsuitable time 
for a work on which such momentous consequences 
depend ! 






THE DYING PENITENT. 359 

Be it so, that the dying sinner does sometimes betray 
no fear of death, and again that he expresses a willing- 
ness to die ; but these mental states may result from the 
influence of mortal disease on bis faculties and sensi- 
bilities. Or admitting, as is sometimes the case, that 
he has found relief from his fears in prayer by conse- 
crated lips, or in receiving the consecrated emblems of 
the Saviour's dying love — how different is such a prep- 
aration for death, from that repentance which leads a 
dying man to acknowledge his ill deserts, to deplore his 
sins, and deprecate the wrath of Heaven I — and, when 
convinced that there is mercy, even then to lay hold, 
with a trembling hand, on the hope which is set before 
him in the gospel ! How wide the difference from that 
faith which fills the dying penitent with sentiments of 
gratitude, and love, and praise to God for his unmerited 
goodness ; which leads him to rejoice in the suitableness 
and all-sufficiency of a crucified Saviour — to exhort 
surrounding friends to make their peace with God, and 
prepare for the hour of their own departure — to give a 
testimony for Christ in the presence of former associates 
in wickedness — to look away from earth to that world 
whither Jesus has gone to prepare mansions for his fol- 
lowers, and to die with the assurance that heaven will 
be his eternal home! 

What though the Scriptures inform us that a notori- 
ous offender obtained mercy in his dying hour — did 
he not give evidence which cannot be mistaken, of 
repentance and faith ? Did not the Saviour, who knew 
the state of his heart, assure him of salvation ? Repent- 
ance, then, at any time, is not a mere tear, or groan, or 



360 THE DYING PENITENT. 

' God have mercy ;' faith is not mere indifference to 
life, or willingness to die ; nor is it a mere assent of the 
lips. Before we can scripturally regard a sinner's death- 
bed exercises as the fruits of God's gracious Spirit, we 
must see substantially the same evidences of repentance 
and faith that the dying thief exhibited ; but how seldom 
is this the case ! And among those who unexpectedly 
recover from dangerous sickness, how often does it 
happen that he who seemed so penitent and believing, 
at once returns, with returning health, to the world 
which, on his sick-bed, he had solemnly renounced for 
God! 

But admitting that the dying hour affords the most 
favorable opportunity for repentance — where one has 
then exhibited the evidences of faith in Jesus, how 
many have been smitten with some disease that at once 
precluded all exercise of thought ; how many have 
showed blindness of mind and hardness of heart — have 
even died with blasphemies on their lips ; how many, 
too, have been cut down in all their "full-blown sins," 
without a moment's warning! And because one has 
been saved from a wreck, shall another knowingly ex- 
pose himself to the fury of the winds and waves ? What 
infatuation, to part with the present for the uncertain 
future ! In a world where death breaks in upon us at 
an unexpected moment, to put off the concerns of the 
soul to a dying hour ! 

Even though men should not be cut off suddenly, in 
general their death will correspond with their life. The 
mercy of God is not more to be admired in the case of 
one of the thieves, than is his justice to be dreaded from 



THE DYIXG PENITENT. 361 

the case of the other. If, from the one instance, I am 
encouraged to hope that a life of wickedness may end 
in a death of penitence — so, by the other, I am most 
powerfully impressed with the conviction, that, as men 
live, so will they die. Even from the first instance, I 
can have no belief in a dying man's conversion, unless 
he gives some evidence of his faith ; and no heart to 
bid him hope in God's favor, if so be that he has delib- 
erately postponed the work of repentance. Free as is 
the grace of God, that man may have sinned away his 
day of grace ; and God may have left him — as he did 
the other thief on the cross — to die in his sins. 

But unless that cross had been erected, in vain might 
man have repented of his sins, or reformed his life. Un- 
able to satisfy the demands of justice, there could have 
been for him no deliverance from the curse of a violated 
law : and since Christ, by his death, has made atone- 
ment for the sin of the world, what more proper than 
that his sufferings for sinners should be made the means 
of their sorrow for sin ? What can cover the shame of 
the cross, but that by it men should be led to abase 
themselves and exalt Christ? How proper that his 
humiliation should thus redound to his glory! 

But what more effective instrumentality could be de- 
vised? We may be pointed to the glories of Paradise; 
but it can only serve to convince us what we have lost 
by sin — how unfitted we are for its abodes of purity: 
it cannot inspire us with hope ; it may not even allure 
us, for the heart of fallen man knows no heaven above 
the world in which its affections centre. In contrast 
with heaven, we may be told of .hell :. but, though the 
31 



362 THE DYING PENITENT. 

thought of such unmitigated woes may overwhelm us 
with fear, it cannot wake the source of penitential tears, 
nor move us to one act of cordial obedience. By such 
means, we cannot be led to right views of our own char- 
acter, nor to proper sentiments toward God. We may 
be told that we are exposed to God's eternal wrath and 
curse : but we want the evidence that God so hates 
sin ; or, if convinced of our sin and ill desert, we want 
to know how we may regain the favor of that holy 
God, and that there is hope even for the chief of sin- 
ners. 

Hence the adaptedness of the gospel to man's charac- 
ter and condition as a fallen being. Nowhere else can 
we gather such affecting views of God's perfections, and 
such motives to repentance, as are embodied in the cross 
of Christ. See there the Lamb of God ! For us those 
hands were transfixed — that side pierced; for us he 
endured those bitter taunts — those cruel scourgings, 
and bowed his head to the stroke of death ! Yea, even 
that we might be delivered from the curse of the law, 
and restored to the Paradise which by our sins we had 
forfeited. Who can be unmoved by such a spectacle ? 
Wondrous compassion — to suffer, and bleed, and die, 
for sins not his own ! It was this thought that touched 
the flinty heart of that dying criminal, and encouraged 
him to breathe a prayer for mercy ; it is this that has 
dissolved to penitence and inspired with trembling hope 
the heart of many a sinner equally guilty ; and he who 
cannot be moved by the love of a dying Saviour to con- 
fess his sins and sue for mercy, may be already given 
over to a reprobate mind, It is vain to think that other 



THE DYING PENITENT. 363 

arguments can convince him of his guilt, or other mo- 
tives woo him to godly sorrow. Like the other thief, 
by the very side of Jesus, he may seal his own damna- 
tion, and from the mount of Calvary go down to a seven- 
fold perdition ! As that cross was rendered effectual to 
the salvation of one of the thieves, while it tended to 
the aggravated condemnation of the other, so surely is 
the gospel the savor of life unto life, or of death unto 
death. 

We are apt to wonder that one of the thieves could 
revile the blessed Jesus — even shocked at such de- 
pravity. But what were his advantages for knowing 
Christ, compared with the advantages of men at the 
present day, before whom Christ is often " set forth cru- 
cified," and who are so often urged and entreated even 
by his " cross and passion," to repent of their sins ? 
How much greater, then, must be their guilt — since, 
by their impenitence, they virtually sanction the treat- 
ment which Christ received from this malefactor ! 

Such, however, in general admit the Divine authority 
of his mission, and mean at some time to seek his mercy : 
with their last breath they hope to commit themselves to 
the arms of his love ! Not for all worlds would they die 
without an interest in Christ ! Yes ; they think they 
can live without him : but, knowing that they cannot 
safely die without him, they mean to confess him, though 
not now, yet in time, they hope, to secure their safety ! 
But what can equal such ingratitude, save the folly of 
such a decision ? What ! may one live to the world 
until he can no longer retain it, and then ask for a place 
in heaven ? With hardly less hazard to his immortal 



364 THE DYING PENITENT. 

interests, hardly less presumption, might he determine 
to postpone repentance until he stands a naked spirit 
before the judgment-seat of Christ ! If he will then say 
to many, " Depart from me" — though they may have 
eaten and drunk in his presence, prophesied in his 
name, and in his name done many wonderful works, 
how can any man on his death-bed presume on the 
mercy which all his life long he had rejected ? 

Though Christ did remember the dying thief, that 
case may rise up in judgment to condemn the impeni- 
tent hearer of the gospel. The first time that he heard 
the gospel, he believed : year after year has the latter 
heard both its invitations and its warnings, and yet never 
has he dropped a tear in view of the Saviour's sufferings 
— never breathed a prayer at the foot of the cross — 
never remembered his sayings to do them, his example 
to imitate it, his dying love to celebrate it at his table ! 

Most melancholy is it to think that dying sinners can 
be so carried away by the things of this vain w T orld as 
to procrastinate compliance with the claims of such a 
Saviour, and thereby expose themselves to his final re- 
jection ! What is so needful for us as a place in Christ's 
remembrance ? What are the regards of the creature, 
what the treasures and honors of the world, compared 
with this ? What will it profit me that I have gathered 
up riches, if riches can neither console me in sorrow, 
nor succor me at death? What will it avail that my 
name lives in the annals of a nation, when my body is 
food for worms ? What are even the remembrances of 
friends, if they must soon follow me to the house ap- 
pointed for all living ? 



THE DYING PENITENT. 365 

Is not this the infancy of my immortal existence — 
this a vale of tears and a state of trial ? Beyond the 
grave, is there not a solemn judgment and a dread eter- 
nity ? How imperious the wants of my moral being ! 
how momentous the interests of my soul ! And who, 
in my afflictions, can cheer me, if Christ be absent ? 
who, in my death-struggle, can succor me, if Christ 
forget me ? How shall I stand in the judgment, if my 
name be not written in the book of his remembrance ? 
Glorious tidings of great joy, that he died to live for- 
ever ! that he has gone before to prepare mansions for 
his followers ! 

Let me live in daily remembrance of Him who loved 
me, and gave himself for me ; and when my last hour 
is come — when skill is baffled, and friends can only 
weep around my couch, and coldness is creeping through 
my frame, and the light of life leaving my eyes, and I 
feel myself throttled by the " King of Terrors," and 
know that in a moment I must part with earth, and go 
down alone into the dark grave, never more to return — 
then, Lord, remember me. 

And when the sepulchres are bursting, and the dead 
are starting to life at the sound of the archangel's trump, 
and the judgment is set, and the books are opened, and 
the Judge comes forth, clothed with righteousness and 
armed with omnipotence ; and I find myself of the num- 
ber of those who, according to their works, are to be 
allotted to happiness or woe forever ; and feel myself 
to be a sinner, without the power to escape or the tongue 
to speak — O! then, remember me! 

Through life's pilgrimage, all I ask is, a place in thy 
31* 



366 THE DYING PENITENT. 

remembrance ; and in the hour of death, though the world 
forget me, and friends desert me, and my bed be made 
in poverty, and my body racked by pain, give me but 
thy faintest smile, and 1 die happy ! 



THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 367 



THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 

The crowd that gathered round the cross of the 
innocent sufferer, had dispersed ; and even they who, 
but a few days since, were bound together by a common 
faith, are now scattered, like sheep without a shepherd. 
With the last breath of the expiring victim, expired their 
hopes ! What a gloom must have settled over their 
minds, as the approach of night warned them to retire 
from Calvary ! 

But among those who had witnessed the crucifixion, 
we may designate two men who are returning to their 
home at Emmaus, a neighboring village, about seven 
miles from Jerusalem. But little is known respecting 
them. The probability is, that they had seen Jesus, 
listened to his teachings, and witnessed his works, and 
thence been led to regard him as the Messiah ; but the 
crucifixion staggered their faith and dashed their hopes. 

In this state of mind, dejected and melancholy, they 
are returning whence they came — very naturally con- 
versing of their previous views and feelings, in connec- 
tion with the scenes they had so recently witnessed. 
They had not journeyed far, when a person accosted 
them and inquired the subject of their conversation, or 
the cause of their sadness — their dejected countenances 



368 THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 

being a sufficient apology, if one were needed, for such 
an intrusion. 

Astonished that any one should be unacquainted with 
an event of so recent occurrence, and which had thrown 
the whole city into a state of unwonted excitement, they 
concluded that he was a stranger ; and accordingly, with 
all that simplicity and brevity of speech which charac- 
terize deep emotion, they began to tell him of " Jesus 
of Nazareth, which was a prophet mighty in deed and 
word before God and all the people : and how the chief 
priests and our rulers delivered him to be condemned to 
death, and have crucified him :" and how they " trusted 
that it had been he which should have redeemed Israel : 
and besides all this," said they, " to-day is the third day 
since these things w T ere done."* 

But he, instead of expressing either surprise at their 
statement, or sympathy with their feelings, immediately 
reproachedf them for not seeing, in the events to which 
they had referred, what had been clearly predicted in 
their own Scriptures ; and then beginning his discourse, 
he explained to them from Moses and the prophets the 
things that had recently taken place in Jerusalem : how 
that their notions were not in accordance with the Scrip- 
tures ; that, agreeably to the intimations of ancient proph- 
ecy, the Messiah must suffer ; and that therefore the 
death of Christ was in fact no argument that he was not 
the long-promised deliverer of Israel. 

* Luke xxiv. 13-32. 

t The term fool in this connection is not to be viewed as an expres- 
sion of contempt, but simply as an appropriate epithet for their dulness 
in not having perceived the drift of the prophetic writings ; or their 
thoughtlessness in not having understood that the Messiah must die 
and rise again. 



THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 369 

Thus conversing, they reached the village ; but their 
travelling companion seemed to them to be going farther, 
and therefore they constrained him to stop a while, and 
to participate their hospitality — so pleased and edified 
had they been with his conversation, and so reluctant 
were they to lose the benefit of his company. Accord- 
ingly, he went in to sup with them ; and while they sat 
at meat — strange ! he undertook the office of the mas- 
ter of the feast : he " took bread, and blessed it, and 
brake, and gave to them" — thus reminding them, in 
the most unaffected and touching manner, of the au- 
thority, the love, the gesture, the mien, of Him whose 
death they bemoaned. Perhaps, as he raised his hands 
to heaven, in invocation of a blessing on the food, they 
observed the prints of the nails. 

Then they recognised him, and saw clearly that he 
was risen, and was indeed that very Messiah whom they 
had so fondly hoped would redeem Israel. But as they 
recognised him, he, availing himself of the moment of 
their surprise and joy, suddenly departed, leaving them 
to recall his instructions by the way, and, by conse- 
quence, the impressions which his words had made on 
their minds and hearts : ' Strange, that we did not know 
him ! " Did not our heart burn within us, while he 
talked with us by the way, and while he opened to us 
the Scriptures ?" ' 

Here, then, is a specimen of the nature of that evi- 
dence which may be adduced in favor of Christ's resur- 
rection. It is, as it were, one link in that chain of 
proofs by which this event is placed beyond all reason- 
able doubt. Here are two witnesses, alike competent 



370 THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 

and dispassionate, and testifying under circumstances 
which cannot be explained with either the supposition 
that they meant to deceive, or were themselves deceived. 
Be it considered, that, whatever their former views and 
expectations might have been, the door of the sepulchre 
closed on their hopes when it enclosed the body of the 
crucified Jesus ; that they were returning to the place 
of their abode with heavy hearts — and the more de- 
spondent, as the prospect of their deliverance from Ro- 
man bondage, which had so lately seemed to dawn on 
their vision, was now shrouded in darkness : so errone- 
ous was their conception of the Messiah's kingdom, and 
so imperfect their acquaintance with the true import of 
the prophetic Scriptures. Though there was every in- 
ducement for them — as they had previously acknowl- 
edged him, and been known as his disciples — to believe 
that Christ would rise from the dead ; though the third 
day, specified in his predictions as the time of his res- 
urrection, was past ; though they had just heard the 
report of the women who had gone early on the morn- 
ing of the third day to the sepulchre, that the body was 
not there, and that the angels whom they saw there had 
said that Christ was alive again — -still, they were not 
only skeptical, but despondent. 

Being in such a state of mind, it is not surprising 
that they did not know who it was that accosted them. 
They were not expecting to see Jesus ; they did not 
believe that he was alive ; and it required the strongest 
evidence to convince them that he had risen from the 
dead — nothing short, indeed, of the evidence of their 
senses : and, though they had been interested in his 



THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 371 

conversation, and enlightened by his exposition of the 
prophecies, they had not the remotest idea that the 
stranger who had joined them was indeed the risen 
Jesus, until, while they were intent on the duties of 
hospitality to their guest, he took bread, and blessed it, 
and brake, and gave to them — as Jesus himself had 
done in the company of his disciples, previous to his 
crucifixion ! Such a circumstance was the more signifi- 
cant, as it was wholly unexpected. It roused them from 
the stupor into which they had been thrown by Christ's 
death, and in a moment riveted their eyes in scrutinizing 
wonder on the lineaments of their guest. ' We cannot 
be mistaken ; no, it is He, the crucified Jesus! — But 
he has gone ! — and yet we cannot doubt — we have seen 
him ! he is certainly risen, as he said.' 

Such were the circumstances under which they rec- 
ognised him, and such their convictions ; and the proof 
of their having been thoroughly satisfied that they had 
really seen Jesus, is found in the fact that the same 
hour, though already fatigued with walking, they re- 
turned to Jerusalem ; and finding the eleven together, 
told them how Jesus had met them and conversed with 
them by the way, and how he was known to them in 
the breaking of bread. 

Nor could they have been deceived as to the person 
who had met them — unless we may suppose that the 
woman of Samaria could have failed to recognise him 
with whom she had conversed at the well of Jacob ; or 
the sisters of Lazarus, him who had raised their brother 
from the grave ; — unless Mary herself labored under an 
illusion when she exclaimed, "Fabboni!" or Thomas, 



372 



THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 



when he exclaimed, " My Lord and my God !" They 
had known him, and often listened with rapt attention 
to his teachings, and even embraced him as the Messiah ; 
and the fact that they did not recognise him before, was 
owing either to his having presented at first a different 
appearance, or that they were no more expecting to 
meet him again than we are the friend whom, a few days 
since, we saw dead and buried. 

Who but Christ himself would have accosted them 
at that time, or could have conversed with them in such 
a manner ? Though it might have been a stranger 
attracted by their earnest conversation, and curious to 
know what had occurred in the city, yet it is not prob- 
able that an utter stranger to Jerusalem would have 
shown such profound knowledge of the Jewish Scrip- 
tures : or, though it might have been some one of the 
disciples with whom they had no acquaintance, yet all 
the disciples, for aught we know to the contrary, were 
equally disappointed, and equally in the dark respecting 
the nature of that deliverance which Christ had come 
to accomplish. But he who met them in the way was 
no stranger to what had taken place in the city ; nor 
was he a stranger to Moses and the prophets : and, so 
far from expressing surprise or wonder as a stranger 
would have done, or sympathizing with their views and 
feelings as any disciple would, he at once reproved them 
for their ignorance and disbelief of God's word. He 
proved to them that there was a necessity for Christ's 
sufferings, if not on the ground that God " might be 
just, and the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus," 
yet clearly from the fact that his sufferings had been 



THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 373 

predicted ; and then, by explaining the prophetic parts 
of Scripture, he satisfied their minds that the things 
which had come to pass, and which they bemoaned, 
were in exact fulfilment of all the prophecies respecting 
the promised Messiah : he walked along with them 
while thus instructing and interesting them ; he would 
have gone beyond the village, but they constrained him 
to tarry with them ; he went into their house to sup with 
them, and reclined at meat with them, and broke the 
bread, and asked the Divine blessing, in their presence ; 
and if such circumstances do not furnish sufficient evi- 
dence that he who met them was a real personage, no 
evidence can establish the fact : a hundred witnesses 
under such circumstances were no better than these two. 

The question then turns on the authenticity of the 
narrative. But if it be not authentic, how can we ac- 
count for the fact that they should have put into the 
mouth of a stranger to them, an exposition and applica- 
tion of those ancient prophecies of which they them- 
selves were ignorant — and at the very time, too, when 
they had surrendered their own minds to doubt and 
despair ? All this must have been a fabrication of theirs, 
if Jesus Christ did not accost them, and so converse 
with them : or, if the narrative had been written by an 
impostor, why should he have recorded, to their dispar- 
agement, the obtuseness of the disciples themselves as 
to the plain import of their own Scriptures ? But how 
is it possible that an impostor should have written a 
narrative which is at once so simple, so tender, and so 
true to nature? 

How natural that the disciples, after witnessing the 
32 



374 THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 

death and burial of their Lord, should abandon all hopes 
of the cause which they had espoused; that, on leaving 
the city, they should carry with them a sad heart; that 
the things which had occurred should be the burden of 
their conversation ; and that they should conclude, as a 
matter of course, that he who had not heard of Christ's 
tragic end, could not have been long in Jerusalem ! 
And then, the manner in which they replied to Christ's 
inquiry indicates just such a state of mind as we might 
suppose to exist under the circumstances in which they 
were placed : not calm and collected, but agitated and 
perplexed. There was so much that was remarkable 
about him whom the Jews had put to death ; so much 
evidence that he was the Messiah of promise : how be- 
nign his aspect ! how lovely his life ! how pure his 
benevolence ! What words of wisdom fell from his 
lips ! what stupendous and gracious miracles were 
wrought by him ! — -' But then the chief priests had con- 
demned him and caused him to be crucified ; and even 
our rulers lent their countenance to the bloody deed : 
and now, he is no more ! though we trusted that it had 
been he which should have redeemed Israel. And be- 
sides all this, to-day is the third day since these things 
were done !' Every thing had taken place contrary to 
their expectations and fondest hopes ; yet the wonders 
did not cease : " Certain women also of our company 
made us astonished, which were early at the sepulchre ; 
and when they found not his body, they came, saying, that 
they had also seen a vision of angels, which said that he 
was alive. And certain of them that were with us went 
to the sepulchre, and found it even so as the women 



THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 375 

had said: but him they saw not:" — thus stating what 
they had seen and heard, in the simplest order of 
local suggestion ; but knowing not what to think, much 
less to believe : and, though last, not least, the manner 
in which they listened to his discourse — like men intent 
on solving a mystery ; their constraining him to tarry 
with them — being naturally reluctant to part with one 
so soon whose conversation had already served, in a 
degree, to relieve their agitated minds ; and, above all, 
their mutual and involuntary remark on his sudden de- 
parture — denoting as it did the deep interest and pleas- 
ure which they had felt in his discourse, before they 
knew who he was ; and thus led to recall his words — 
words which reached their heart when they were ut- 
tered, and which they now wonder had not led before 
to their recognition of him who was wont to speak as 
never man spoke. 

Imagine, reader, that you had been one of the follow- 
ers of Jesus : how would you have felt when you turned 
away from the cross on which he was crucified between 
two malefactors — or from the sepulchre where he was 
laid, and against the door of which the great stone had 
been rolled? When you bent your steps homeward, 
and recalled the fondest hopes you had ever cherished, 
then blasted — think you that a tear would not have 
dropped from your eye ? — though surprised that any 
one so near the city could be ignorant of what had hap- 
pened, that you would not have listened with the intensest 
interest to any scriptural explanation of recent events ? 
— and if you had at last found in your unknown com- 
panion your lost Messiah, would you not have recalled 



376 THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 

his words with ineffable delight, and forthwith returned 
and communicated the joyful tidings? 

If, then, the style of the narrative proves that the oc- 
currences which it embodies were taken from real life, 
it follows that Jesus Christ did indeed rise from the 
dead. 

The two disciples had often read their Scriptures, 
and they believed in a Messiah who should come ; but 
it had never entered their thoughts that he would be sub- 
ject to sufferings and to death : and the reason is found 
in the fact that their erroneous preconceptions of the na- 
ture of Christ's kingdom had served to obscure, in their 
view, the meaning of prophecy. So impressed had they 
been with the notion of a temporal deliverer, that, not- 
withstanding all Christ's prophetic allusions to his own 
death, that event, as we have seen, threw them into 
despair ; nor until their eyes were opened to understand 
the Scriptures, did they know that Christ must needs 
suffer. And thus it is now — that prejudice often ob- 
scures or perverts the plainest doctrines. The desire 
also of finding something, or of proving that to be scrip- 
turally true, which will favor their worldly views, or at 
least not interfere with their worldly pursuits and grati- 
fications, often perverts the judgment, and even enlists 
the decisions of the speculative understanding. How 
else can we account for the fact that some should be so 
blind to the doctrine of Christ's divinity, and of spiritual 
regeneration, as well as to that of future punishment? 
In some instances, as was the case with the disciples to 
a great extent, the prejudices of education tend to pre- 
clude a knowledge of the plainest truths in God's word. 



THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 377 

Hence, some have no other idea of religion than adhe- 
rence to a particular form of the church, or the obser- 
vance of forms and ceremonies ; nor are such ever 
brought to a knowledge of the truth until, in the provi- 
dence of God, the Scriptures are properly explained to 
them, and brought to bear in all their convincing power 
on the heart and conscience. 

Thus, Ananias was the instrument, in the hands of 
the Lord Jesus Christ, of enlightening Saul's darkened 
mind, and of leading him unto the way of salvation. 
So Philip, by explaining the prophecy of Esaias to the 
bewildered Ethiopian, was the instrument of leading 
him to the knowledge of Christ. It is remarkable that 
a man of his authority under Candace, while on his 
return from Jerusalem, whither he had been to worship, 
should have been reading the passage — " He was led 
as a sheep to the slaughter ; and like a lamb dumb be- 
fore his shearer, so opened he not his mouth :" but had 
not Philip begun at the same Scripture, and preached 
unto him Jesus, he would not have gone on his way re- 
joicing in having found the Messiah ! In like manner, 
had it not been for the providential visit of Staupitz to 
the convent of Erfurth, Luther, notwithstanding his con- 
victions of sin, and longings after purity and peace, 
might have died the wretched victim of monkish super- 
stitions. "Look to the wounds of Jesus," said his 
instructor and guide ; " to the blood which he has shed 
for you : it is there you will see the mercy of God. In- 
stead of torturing yourself for your faults, cast yourself 
into the arms of your Redeemer. Trust in him — in 
the righteousness of his life, in the expiatory sacrifice of 



378 THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 

his death."* He did ; and from that time light broke 
in upon his darkness, and the peace of God began to 
flow in upon his heart. 

Though cast down and sorrowful, the two disciples, 
as they walked along, communed with each other — 
thus interchanging their sentiments, and aiming to arrive 
at some scriptural conclusion on which their hearts 
could rest: and as surely as Christ met them, and by 
his expositions enabled them to understand the Scrip- 
tures—so surely will he meet those, by his word and 
Spirit, who are seen walking in the path of humble, dili- 
gent, and prayerful inquiry. It is not that truth is ob- 
scure, or difficult to be understood, that so few acquire 
a knowledge of what the Scriptures teach ; it is because 
the many have neither a love nor a desire for the truth ; 
that they are blinded by their prejudices or wedded to 
their lusts; do not seek to know the mind and will of 
the Spirit ; or, when they seek, bring to the inquiry all 
the pride, and worldliness, and unsubmission of the 
carnal mind. " No man cometh unto the Father but 
by me," said Christ: no man can attain unto the true 
knowledge of God, except through the medium of the 
gospel of Christ. They who have sought Christ, have 
been brought to the knowledge of God ; and whenever 
any one, through the consciousness of his own sinful- 
ness and need of a Saviour, seeks to know Christ, then 
God shines into his heart, to give the light of the knowl- 
edge of the glory of himself in the face of Jesus Christ. 

It will be recollected that our Saviour, in reply to 
the disciples, expounded to them, from Moses and the 

* Merle's History, vol. i, p. 150. 



THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 379 

prophets, the things concerning himself : showing them 
that those very sufferings to which Christ had been sub- 
jected, so far from constituting a just presumption against 
his Messiahship, were in fulfilment of their own scriptu- 
ral prophecies respecting the coming Messiah ; that, in 
consequence of his having been crucified, Jesus would 
be declared to be the Christ of whom the seers of Israel 
had sung — to whom the Mosaic ritual referred — and 
who was shadowed forth in every sacrifice of old, being 
the promised seed of the woman who should bruise the 
head of the serpent. 

Had Christ discovered himself to the disciples when 
he first met them, wonder and astonishment would have 
taken the place of reason and judgment; and when he 
left them, they might have relapsed again into skepti- 
cism and despondency. If they had retained a distinct 
impression of his appearance, and been satisfied in their 
own minds that they had seen the risen Jesus, they 
would not have been able to satisfy others that they had 
not mistaken some one else for Christ himself, or labored 
under an optical illusion ; but, by expounding the Scrip- 
tures to them, he convinced their reason, and thus pre- 
pared them for the testimony of their senses. It was a 
proceeding worthy of Him who " did all things well" — 
as though by so doing he had designed, not merely to 
establish these disciples in the faith of his resurrection, 
but to teach all his followers that they should be " able 
to give a reason" for their faith and hope ; that his 
claims on our belief are founded in reason and truth ; 
that we are to believe, not on the ground of our senses, 
but on the testimony of God's word. This word is now 



380 THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 

to us as he was to the two disciples : and as he prepared 
them for the revelation of himself, so, by his word and 
Spirit, is he preparing his followers for the full and final 
revelation of his glorious perfections. He will yet be 
found of them that seek him, and admired of them that 
believe. 

There is an intimate connection between knowledge 
and faith, reason and hope ; and, as one's interest in 
searching the Scriptures, such is the probability of his 
speedily finding Him of whom Moses wrote. 

From our Lord's expounding to the disciples the 
things recorded in their Scriptures concerning himself, 
it follows that the Hebrew Scriptures proceeded from 
God. Indeed, the most decisive proof of the inspira- 
tion of the Old Testament is derived from the New. 
Paul unquestionably regarded the Hebrew Scriptures 
as of Divine authority, or he could not have said to 
Timothy — "From a child thou hast known the holy 
Scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto sal- 
vation through faith which is in Christ Jesus." With 
express reference to them he said, " All Scripture is 
given by inspiration of God ;" while Luke says that 
" God spake by the mouth of his holy prophets ;" and 
Peter, that " holy men of God spake as they were moved 
by the Holy Ghost." But our Saviour's declaration, as 
recorded by Luke,* is of itself conclusive : " These are 
the words which I spake unto you, while I was yet with 
you, that all things must be fulfilled which were written 
in the law of Moses, and in the prophets, and in the 
psalms, concerning me." Hence, whatever allusions 

* Chap. xxiv. 44. 



THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 381 

may be found in the ancient Scriptures to the Messiah, 
refer to him who was crucified. 

Here there is no room for mistake, no ground for 
doubt. We know that He in whom we believe was 
" the hope of the promise made of God unto the fathers ;" 
that he is the Divine personage who should come in 
"the fulness of time," and be " wounded for our trans- 
gressions," and "bruised for our iniquities;" and, by 
consequence, that he is "The mighty God" — "The 
Prince of Peace !" 

It is only through the medium of the Old Testament, 
that Christ can be found in the New ; and, separate from 
the ancient Scriptures, there can be no true and proper 
understanding of the nature and design of his death. 
There is, therefore, an inseparable and indispensable 
connection between these dispensations. If there is 
not, it is impossible to explain, not only the phenomena 
of the Christian dispensation, but the extraordinary cir- 
cumstance that God should have withdrawn himself from 
a nation which he had expressly selected, and to which 
he had exclusively made known his will. 

Whatever proofs may be adduced in favor of the 
Divine legation of Moses, we cannot believe in him, if 
his economy was neither preceded nor succeeded by 
other revelations of the Divine mind ; and, by parity of 
reasoning — whatever evidences may accompany the 
claims of Jesus — we cannot believe in him as the Mes- 
siah, if we can discover no necessity for his sufferings. 
But what are the facts? Three periods — from the 
creation down to the present — occupied by three suc- 
cessive dispensations ; all alike referable to a common 



382 THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 

origin ; all having a mutual connection by virtue of the 
same grand and harmonious scheme ; all centring in 
the same extraordinary and mysterious personage, and 
pursuing the same purpose, though by diversity of 
means, through each successive period : the one dis- 
pensation preparing the way for the other, and both 
these terminating in the Christian; and all alike grow- 
ing out of the fact of man's original apostasy, and 
God's consequent promise of a Redeemer. Apart from 
these facts, no one can answer the question, why Christ 
must needs have suffered. Admit them, and there 
can be but one true system of religion for the world, 
and no religion can be of God which has not reference 
to Him who was announced immediately after the fall 
of man. 

The only difference between us and holy men of old 
is this : they looked forward to Him who should come 
to take away sin by the sacrifice of himself: we look 
back to the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of 
the world. And who shall say that Abel had not as 
strong a faith in Christ when he offered the firstlings of 
his flock, as John had when he saw, in the fact that not a 
bone of Jesus had been broken, the exact fulfilment of 
prophecy ? as Abraham had when, by offering up his son, 
he dramatized the sacrifice of the Son of God ? as Paul 
had when he said, " He is the propitiation for our sins, 
and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole 
world !" 

The intelligent and devout Israelite at the passover 
could hardly have differed in any thing essential to true 
and acceptable faith in the Messiah, from the worthy 



THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 383 

recipient of the body and blood of Christ. Who is 
Christ, but the great antitypical Lamb ? and what is the 
Lord's supper, but the Christian passover? Certain it 
is, that there is a marked correspondence in these re- 
spects between the Old and New Testaments : our ordi- 
nances correspond ; and the facts which w r e accredit as 
constituting the historical basis of Christianity, must all 
be rejected before it may be denied that they are in ful- 
filment of ancient prophecy. The disciples were stag- 
gered by the events of Calvary; but Isaiah — when he 
stood on the mount of prophetic vision — foresaw the 
sufferings of the Messiah, and the glory that should 
follow. 

" O fools and slow of heart to believe," said the risen 
Jesus to the perplexed and dejected disciples ; ' your 
own Scriptures might have taught you better than to 
doubt the divinity of Christ's mission because he was 
despised and rejected of men, or to despair because he 
was buffeted, and scourged, and put to a cruel death.' 
— " Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and 
to enter into his glory ?" 

If Christ could thus reprove the dulness and unbelief 
of his disciples, with how much more propriety — since 
he himself has furnished us with a key to the prophetic 
Scriptures — may it be said to those at the present day 
who reject the atonement and the divinity of the Son 
of God : ' O fools and slow of heart to believe what the 
Lord Jesus Christ has rendered plain even to the com- 
prehension of a child, and certain beyond the possibility 
of scriptural disproof!' 

But what a privilege to have had Christ for a teacher 



384 THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 

— Christ, in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom 
and knowledge! — to have hung on ids lips who never 
spake but to instruct the ignorant, to reclaim the erring, 
and cheer the sorrowing, or to expose hypocrisy and 
rebuke unbelief; Christ, who always spake as "the 
Father gave him commandment ;" and who could end 
his discourses — replete as they are with the most won- 
derful announcements — and say, "These are the true 
sayings of God ;" and as he spoke, the winds and waves 
ceased to rage — the palsied sick took up their bed and 
walked — the blind received their sight — and the dead 
came forth to life ! 

It is no wonder, though their eyes were holden that 
they should not know him, that such a teacher made 
all things plain and clear to the disciples ; that his words 
not only enlightened their minds, but warmed their 
hearts. The words of Jesus ! they are spirit and they 
are life ! And though he has entered into his glory, 
yet has he often spoken to his followers by his word 
and Spirit ; and have not their hearts as often burned 
within them? 

Never is the Christian's heart so drawn out in emo- 
tions of holy love, as when he is contemplating the 
lineaments of Jesus — his humility, his meekness, his 
patience, his devotion to his Father's w T ill, his weeping, 
untiring benevolence, and the loveliness of his spotless 
example ; or when he is seated at the table of his dying 
love, and hears the Master saying, " This is my body 
broken for you." When thus communing with Jesus, 
how often has his word seemed to them " sweeter than 
honey or the honey-comb ;" how often have they been 



THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 385 

melted to tears of blending gratitude and penitence; in- 
spired with a glowing zeal in his service, and sometimes 
been " in a strait betwixt two, knowing that it were better 
to depart and be with Christ!" 

Author and Finisher of the faith once delivered to 
the saints ! be thou all our salvation and all our desire. 

What a religion is ours ! Let those who know not 
God, and Jesus Christ, whom he has sent, laud their 
cold philosophy, and worship the abstractions of intel- 
lect ; and they who would quiet their fears of an here- 
after without renouncing the world, let such rest in their 
heartless rationalism, or their lifeless forms. Give me 
a religion that makes its way to my heart ; that will dis- 
solve me to tears of penitence for my sins, and fill me 
with love to Him who loved me and gave himself for 
me ; that will make me more weary of the world, and 
long more ardently for the purity and peace of heaven ! 

Let him who would instruct me in the way of salva- 
tion, trifle not with my spiritual wants by his empty 
words, or vain theories and irrelevant discourses : let 
him teach me out of the lively oracles of God. If he 
would do me good, let him make me humble, grateful, 
prayerful, and devoted : let him preach the gospel, not 
in the words that man's wisdom teacheth, but in the 
words that the Holy Ghost teacheth ! Ay ; and if he 
would not lead me to mock God, or ruin my own pre- 
cious soul, let him so preach " Christ and him cruci- 
fied," that when I go to the table of Xesus, I go not with 
either the cold heart of the formalist, or the vapid senti- 
mentalism of the spell-bound devotee, but with the peni- 
tent, grateful, lively sentiments of the believer ; that I 

33 



386 THE DESPONDING DISCIPLES. 

may see the Master of the feast, and think of Christ, and 
love Christ, and commune with Christ, and feed by faith 
upon his atoning sacrifice ; and that the recollection of 
having been with Jesus may cause my heart to burn 
within me, and constrain me to make known to others 
— by my walk and conversation, my spiritual joys, and 
purifying hope, and earnest longings after God and 
heaven — the fact and the power of his resurrection! 



THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 387 



THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 

Christianity is the religion of our birth. We have 
grown up amid its temples, its institutions, its benign 
and elevating influences. That indifference which is 
consequent on familiarity, is apt to render us thought- 
less of its origin, and regardless of its benefits. Yet 
there was a time when Christianity was not known — 
when, with the sole exception of Judea, paganism, in 
some one of its degrading forms, was the religion of 
every nation on the globe. 

Wondrous change ! We are wont to go back and 
contemplate the mutations which have taken place in 
society ; and it is curious to reflect on the progress of 
nations from barbarism to civilization — emerging, as it 
were, from the horrors of a wilderness to the enjoyment 
of a landscape enriched by agriculture, and adorned by 
art — of a community supplied by industry, elevated by 
intelligence, and protected by law. But all our re- 
searches into the early condition of countries and nations 
are of trivial moment, compared with the inquiry as to 
the origin of practical Christianity in the gentile world. 

It might have been supposed that Christianity would 
have selected its first convert from amid the ranks of 
philosophers ; but this was not the case. Professing 
themselves wise, thev were left to work out a fuller 



388 THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 

demonstration that "the world by wisdom knew not 
God." Shall we look, then, among the pagan priests 
for the first convert? Conscious that their own religion 
was a cheat, they were only the more hostile to a faith 
which endangered their selfish gains ; while the people 
at large were degraded by ignorance, deformed by vice, 
and inflamed by national prejudice. But how much 
greater the honor, had Christianity, at the outset, triumph- 
antly invaded the pride of philosophy, the bigotry of 
priestcraft, or the sensualism and idolatry of the throng ! 
So it may seem to us ; but the first to whom the gospel 
was sent, was a man who seemed to be, than any other 
less in need of Divine direction and mercy. 

We might have supposed, moreover, that this conver- 
sion would have been effected through the instrumentality 
of the apostles ; that, in obedience to the last command 
of their Lord and Master, they would have gone forth 
preaching the gospel to the Gentiles : but, notwithstand- 
ing Christ's injunction, it is doubtful whether their minds 
would have been so speedily disabused of the prejudices 
of their birth. Supernatural agency was required, before 
the " middle wall of partition" between the Jew and the 
Gentile would be broken down ; and, as an angel had 
been sent to Mary to announce the coming Saviour, so 
an angel was sent to Cornelius to announce the way of 
salvation. 

It is very remarkable that the first gentile convert 
should have been apprehended by God's holy Spirit 
from amid the ranks of a profession which had been the 
curse of the world ; which had subjugated nations to 
individual pride and ambition, deified warriors and 






THE FIRST GEXTILE CONVERT. 389 

heroes, lent its support to despotism, cruelty, injustice, 
and crime ; enslaved minds, and sacrificed the lives of 
countless beings ; and which was destined to overturn 
the temple and city of the Jews. When Rome was 
about to send forth her legions to pollute and destroy 
the holy of holies, God sent forth his Spirit to arrest a 
Roman centurion as the first fruits of Christianity! 

It is difficult to divine the reason for this selection. 
It may have been to intimate that, though the Roman 
arms would overrun Judea, the Christian religion should 
overspread the world ; that the profession which had 
promoted wars, should be rendered subservient to the 
spread of the gospel of peace ; that He who could appre- 
hend a centurion, would control the movements of Titus 
and his legions ; that the spirit and courage of a soldier 
would be needed by every one who should follow Christ 
among the Gentiles. It might have been to convince 
the Jews themselves that the middle wall must indeed 
be broken down, when the prayers and alms of a gentile 
soldier were accepted before God ; or to convince the 
wise men among the Gentiles, that the attainments of 
philosophy are no recommendations to the Divine favor. 

As fishermen were selected to humble the pride of 
the Jew, so might Cornelius have been to rebuke their 
bigotry. As fishermen had been called to rebuke the 
arrogance of human wisdom, so might the soldier have 
been arrested to abash the pretensions of priestcraft. In 
the conversion of Saul, we see the triumph of Christi- 
anity over Judaism ; in that of Cornelius, its triumph 
over Deism. 

Moreover, the conversion of such a man as Cornelius 
33 # 



390 THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 

may have been designed to intimate the connection be- 
tween the principles of Deism and those of Christianity ; 
that a certain preparation of mind and heart is necessary 
to the cordial reception of the gospel ; that no acts of 
devotion, no good works, can insure heaven, except 
through Jesus Christ — thus ministering a rebuke alike 
to the Jew and to the Gentile ; and, finally, that no em- 
ployment — not even the military profession — is incon- 
sistent with the practical reception of the gospel. Nor, 
indeed, is any one occupation in life more favorable 
than another to the exercise of true religion. There 
may be bad men among ministers of the gospel, and 
good men among soldiers. The statesman may be as 
truly religious as the preacher ; and each and every 
man, in his sphere of secular business, may alike serve 
God and be accepted of him. This is the great pecu- 
liarity of the gospel. It does not require us to go out 
of the world, or to desert our post in society — much 
less to neglect our calling for temporal subsistence. ' If 
thou acceptest the terms of discipleship,' says its spirit, 
' I will accompany thee to the hall, the office, the work- 
shop, the mine ; even in the tented battle-field — if thou 
appearest there in the just cause of thy country — thou 
shalt find thy Saviour. Nay, I will never leave nor 
forsake thee, unless thou prove false to God, to thy 
race, and to thyself!' 

It is not stated whether Cornelius, after his conver- 
sion, abandoned the military profession : possibly he 
might have thought that he could not do all that was 
required of him, by superior authority, without violating 
the dictates of an enlightened conscience ; or that, by 



THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 391 

now retaining his profession, he might be exposing him- 
self to temptations beyond his strength. 

Be this as it may, all we know positively is, that he 
was the commander of a division in the Roman army — 
a division composed chiefly of soldiers from Italy, and 
thence called the " Italian Band ;" and the place in which 
he was stationed was Caesarea — so designated in honor 
of Augustus Caesar, and situated on the coast of the 
Mediterranean, about sixty-two miles northwest of Jeru- 
salem. From his official relations, in connection with 
his Latin name, we are led to infer that Cornelius was a 
Roman ; and, though some commentators have thought 
that he was a Jewish proselyte, or a proselyte of the 
gate, they have overlooked, it would seem, the several 
facts that Peter himself regarded Cornelius as a foreigner, 
and that the apostles contended with Peter, on his return 
to Jerusalem, for having preached the gospel to a Gen- 
tile. The presumption that Cornelius must have been 
of Jewish birth, because he was a devout man, has its 
origin in the same mental habitude which rendered it 
difficult for Peter to conceive how that could be cleansed 
which he had always regarded as common and unclean. 
Because a nation may be immersed in heathenish dark- 
ness, it does not follow that no individual mind within 
its limits has any glimpses of truth and right. With as 
much propriety might we conclude, from the fact that 
the greater proportion in Christendom are mere nominal 
believers, there are no true Christians. It might be 
found that there are among the heathen the same grades 
of intelligence and morality which we find in Christian 
lands ; it may be, as many pagans living up to the light 



392 THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 

which they enjoy, as Christians to their superior lights 
and privileges. If we can believe that, long before the 
advent of the Messiah, there lived a man in Athens who 
eschewed the popular superstitions, and, while surround- 
ed by pantheists and sensualists, aimed to render to the 
Supreme Being the homage of a spiritual worship and 
of a pure life — still less incredible is it that there was 
at Caesarea, in the days of the apostles, a devout wor- 
shipper of the true God. In what way such a man was 
taught the evils of idolatry, and the necessity of a reli- 
gion of the heart — whether by the unaided exercise of 
reason, by the aid of tradition, or by some incidental 
acquaintance with the principles of Revelation — it is 
difficult to decide ; but not more difficult than to account 
for the manner in which, here and there, some obscure 
person came to the heartfelt knowledge of the faith in 
Christ, years before Germany awoke from the long night 
of papal superstition. As, at the era of the Reformation, 
there were individuals who, without any known advan- 
tages, without ever having seen the Bible, were pre- 
pared to receive the tidings of great joy — so may we 
suppose that, at the time to which we allude, God, hav- 
ing broken down the middle wall of partition, was pre- 
paring many a heart among the Gentiles to receive the 
knowledge of his great salvation. 

It is certain, however, that Cornelius was a pious 
man ; for he feared God, and exerted his influence to 
train up his family in the fear of God: he, moreover, 
evidenced his piety by his alms, and by maintaining the 
habit of daily prayer. All this may be admitted; but 
that an angel should have appeared unto him at one of 



THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 393 

his seasons of devotion, is a singular circumstance : nor 
could we easily accredit it, were it not that Peter and 
Cornelius, though previously strangers to each other, 
met, by acting according to the supernatural directions 
which they had separately received — so that we cannot 
throw discredit on one part of the narrative without re- 
jecting the whole. Besides, the centurion's vision was 
not a dream. It occurred about the ninth hour of the 
day — toward eventide ; and it was with his bodily eyes 
that he saw a man in bright clothing, and heard him 
distinctly pronounce his own name. It is not surprising 
that his first emotion bordered on fear, nor that he should 
have immediately inquired the purport of so extraordi- 
nary a visit. " Thy prayers and thine alms," replied 
the heavenly visitant, " are come up for a memorial 
before God. And now send men to Joppa, and call 
for one Simon, whose surname is Peter : he lodgeth 
with one Simon a tanner, whose house is by the sea- 
side : he shall tell thee what thou oughtest to do." # 

It may be asked, what necessity there was for any 
supernatural errand to Cornelius for such a purpose. 
Peter himself might have been sent, and he, an inspired 
apostle, might have readily told the centurion in what 
light his prayers and alms were regarded, and whatever 
was incumbent on him to do in the way of his salvation. 
This is true ; but the centurion would not then have 
had that confidence in Peter that was necessary under 
the circumstances, nor that clear and certain evidence 
that it was his duty to act according to the apostle's 
instructions. 

* Acts x. 4-6. 



394 THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 

Aside from this, a new and most remarkable era was 
about to open on the history of both the church and the 
world — the introduction of the gospel to the Gentiles. 
Here was the first Gentile to whom it was to be preached : 
and in this fact, we are furnished with the reason why 
an angel was commissioned to visit Cornelius. But in 
order to this great end, certain timeworn prejudices 
were to be overcome, certain erroneous notions to be 
rectified, and certain fundamental principles to be made 
known and established. It might be expected that the 
eye of the Christian church, in all coming ages, would 
look back to the history of the first Gentile convert, and 
by it be governed in its views of what is essential to the 
Divine acceptance, and what kind of instrumentality 
God employs in the work of man's salvation. 

The principles which this narrative embodies will 
necessarily lead us to certain important conclusions. 
For example — that the ministry of the word is the 
grand instrumentality for bringing men to the saving 
knowledge of the truth. Originating with the great 
Head of the church, it bears the impress of his authority, 
enjoys the promise of his presence, and the aids of his 
Spirit : " Go ye into all the world, and preach the gos- 
pel to every creature ; and lo, I am with you alway, 
even to the end of the world." Hence, having estab- 
lished the Christian ministry, the Lord Jesus did not so 
much as intimate his will to Saul of Tarsus, though he 
had miraculously arrested him ; but sent him to be in- 
structed by Ananias — thus honoring, that all might 
honor, an instrumentality of his own appointment. In 
like manner, the angel might have told Cornelius all 



THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 395 

that was necessary for him to know, in order to his sal- 
vation ; but instead of this, " Send men to Joppa," said 
he, " and call for one Simon, whose surname is Peter," 
and " he shall tell thee what thou oughtest to do." And 
why did not the angel proclaim to him the words of 
eternal life ? Because, in so doing, he would have ex- 
ceeded the power of his own commission — thereby 
trespassing on the prerogatives of the ministry which 
Christ had instituted. 

This seems to us to have been one of the ends which 
God contemplated in sending an angel to Cornelius — 
to wit, to show the Gentiles that the ministry of the 
word is the instrumentality which he has appointed for 
bringing men to the knowledge and embrace of the 
truth ; to intimate to men, in all coming generations, 
that if they desire to know the truth, or are concerned 
for their salvation, they should send for the ministry of 
the gospel : and the history of Christianity bears illus- 
trious testimony to this feature of the Divine economy, 
in the countless exemplifications which it affords us of 
the unrivalled power and efficiency of the preached 
word. Where and when is it that the Spirit of God 
has descended — establishing Christians in their "most 
holy faith," and turning sinners from "the error of their 
ways" — but in the place where the preacher stands, 
and while he is reasoning with men out of the Scrip- 
tures, and setting forth in heartfelt language Christ cru- 
cified, as a Saviour mighty to save ? Other means may 
serve to enlighten the mind, but none so efficient as this 
in reaching the heart and the conscience. Even while 
surrounded by other means of religious instruction, 



396 THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 

many a man has vainly sought the peace-giving knowl- 
edge of the truth, until some humble minister of the 
cross has directed him into the way of eternal life. In 
vain may any one look for the saving knowledge of the 
truth, unless he comes before God, as his people come, 
to hear from the lips of his servant all the words which 
God has commanded. In vain do we send abroad our 
bibles and tracts, unless we send also the living preacher 
of the gospel. 

By such remarks, we do not unduly magnify the 
Christian ministry. No ; we are no advocates for a 
" succession," which, if it could be proved to be " un- 
broken," has no sanction from the gospel — much less 
any vital connection with its fundamental principles. 
We claim not powers with which no man can be in- 
vested without either becoming corrupt in his own 
views of gospel truth, or corrupting others. We eschew 
all such pretensions, and bear our solemn testimony 
against them — because they have deluded unnumbered 
minds into the notion that salvation cometh from the 
priest, instead of coming from God only. In affirming 
the indispensable importance of the gospel ministry, we 
simply mean to assert God's supremacy, and to hold to 
God's aj)j)oi?ited instrumentality . He has committed the 
excellency of the treasure to earthen vessels, that "the 
excellency of the power might be of God." — "It has 
pleased God by the foolishness of preaching" — not by 
our receiving absolution from human lips, nor by our 
receiving the sacrament at the hands of a priest — but 
"by the foolishness of preaching to save them that be- 
lieve ;" because this is the medium and the only appointed 



THE FIRST GEXTILE CONVERT. 397 

medium through which God pours the light of truth upon 
the darkened mind, and bows the stubborn will, and dis- 
solves the heart to penitence, and faith, and love. Thus 
was it in the days of the apostles — at the period of the 
Reformation also — and so is it now. On the other 
hand, facts prove that, where the gospel has not been 
faithfully preached, there Christianity is little else than 
baptized heathenism ; there the religion of the heart has 
been displaced by the blinding influence of forms and 
ceremonies ; there the people, however they may regard 
themselves as " the temple of the Lord," are " ignorant 
of Christ's righteousness, and going about to establish 
their own ;" that there the gospel, if faithfully preached, 
would be hated and reviled ! 

It is a singular though lamentable fact, that they who 
claim to be sole successors of Peter, should resemble 
this apostle so little in their preaching ; that instead of 
proclaiming remission of sin through faith in Christ, 
they should have anathematized all who adhere to the 
simple principles of the gospel, and substituted works 
for faith ; and that, even now, they should exalt their 
polity, their ordination, their sacraments, their ritual, 
above the importance of the preached gospel, and all 
essential verities ! But though such may aim to exalt 
themselves, there are who would " rejoice if counted 
worthy to suffer shame for the sake of Christ." They 
ask no blind submission to the power of the keys — no 
prostration in their presence : enough for them, if, in 
the spirit of Peter, who bade Cornelius rise, they may 
be the servants of all, for Jesus' sake. Whatever effort 
may be made by ghostly ambition to invalidate the gos- 
34 



398 THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 

pel ministry, they may say, as Paul himself affirmed, 
* We have "received that ministry from the Lord Je- 
sus," and we are " a sweet savor unto God in them that 
are saved, and in them that perish," ' * 

It is evident also, from this narrative, that God pre- 
fers the offering of the heart to all external forms of 
worship. It was in accordance with this principle of 
the Divine administration, that the prayers and alms of 
Cornelius were remembered before God. Though he 
had not been circumcised, nor had offered any ceremo- 
nial sacrifice, yet he had acted according to the best of 
his knowledge, cordially and humbly ; and therefore his 

* Peter's interview with Cornelius proves conclusively, not merely 
that faith in Christ is the essence of Christianity, but that it lies at the 
foundation of the Christian church — thus furnishing, if other arguments 
were wanting, an effectual refutation of the fundamental error of popery. 
There is no impropriety in referring the word rock to Peter himself, 
(Matt. xvi. 18,) because it is a fact that in one sense the church is built 
on him ; that is, he was the first in making known the gospel to both 
Jews and Gentiles. But, in so doing, he laid the foundation of the 
church among both Jews and Gentiles ; and therefore, as the use of the 
word rock by our Saviour follows Peter's confession of him — "Thou 
art the Christ, the Son of the living God" — as it is in the feminine 
gender, and cannot agree with the name of a man — it necessarily 
refers to faith in Christ, the great truth which Peter believed and con- 
fessed. Moreover, as the word Rock is sometimes applied to Jehovah, 
to suppose that it refers to Peter is to transfer to him the attributes of 
God himself — thus removing the foundations of the church to a mere 
man ; and hence it is that the church is displaced by Peter : and the 
followers of Peter are instructed to do penance, and count their beads, 
instead of being told, as he preached to the centurion, to believe on 
Christ. But that the word refers simply to faith in Christ, is evident 
from the fact that the keys of the kingdom were committed to Peter. 
The kingdom is the New-Testament economy, and faith is the condi- 
tion of an entrance into this kingdom. Peter therefore instructed Cor- 
nelius in the way of salvation through faith in Christ, and initiated him 
into the Christian church ; and this was the first act of unloosing and 
of binding — unloosing from the ceremonial law, from the Levitical 
priesthood, and from the altar of sacrifice — and of binding him to 
Christ ; and if this was not the fact, then the middle wall of partition is 
not broken down : we are still in bondage to ordinances. 



THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 399 

prayers and alms were accepted, as evidences of his 
fear of God, and his desire to glorify God. His heart 
was in his religion ; and if the heart be not engaged in 
our worship, what can any forms, however solemn and 
imposing — any sacrifices, however costly, avail in the 
sight of God? 

Strange as it may seem, the futility of a heartless ser- 
vice, or the acceptableness of a simple heart-offering, 
was not so obvious even to the Jews — though their 
Scriptures had unequivocally inculcated the sentiment 
that "to obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken 
than the fat of rams ;" and though it may seem so 
clear to us as hardly to require a formal notice, yet was 
it necessary that this principle of the Divine administra- 
tion should be distinctly settled. 

The efficiency of mere forms has been, in all ages, 
the delusion of the common mind ; and a mere formal 
worship is ofttimes the expedient of the deceitful heart 
to hush the clamors of a guilty conscience. Whatever 
may be our own degree of light, how apt are we to for- 
get that " God will not be mocked" — that he requires 
a spiritual offering! Do we mistake? How happens 
it, then, that so many approach God's holy altar without 
any preparation of heart ; that some whose lives give no 
evidence that the fear of God is before their eyes, do 
nevertheless attend the house of God with regularity, 
and go through their accustomed forms of devotion with 
the utmost solemnity of manner ; that they would be 
more disturbed by any omission of their forms, than if 
they had been betrayed into some moral irregularity, or 
sinful conformity to the world? O vain man ! "I say 



400 THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 

unto thee, that except thy righteousness exceed the 
righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, thou shalt 
in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven." 

" God doth prefer 
Before all temples, the upright heart and pure." 

" The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit : a broken 
and contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise." 

Had a Jew been asked his opinion of the centurion's 
religion, he would have branded it with sentiments of 
no measured reprehension, if not contempt — because 
the centurion had not offered sacrifice according to the 
law of Moses, and moreover was himself a Gentile, 
being not a child of Abraham, and having no fellowship 
with the Jewish synagogue ! Such, indeed, was the 
bigoted impression of Peter himself; and it was not 
■until God had spoken thrice to Peter, that even he 
could be induced to act contrary to the prejudices of 
his education. 

Here, then, we arrive at another principle — a prin- 
ciple which the Jews had lost sight of; which the apos- 
tles themselves were slow to admit ; which religionists 
in every age are too apt to overlook. We are surprised 
that the Jewish mind could have been so blinded by 
prejudice ; that they who had heard the Master's decla- 
ration — " He that believeth shall be saved" — should 
have contended with Peter for having preached the gos- 
pel to a Gentile: but this is not so remarkable as that 
there are, at the present day, exclusive claims and illib- 
eral sentiments. Some whom we might suppose to be 
better acquainted with the essential principles of Chris- 
tianity, go so far as gravely to maintain that the great 



THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 401 

Head of the church has confined to them and their suc- 
cessors the legitimate exercise of ail ministerial func- 
tions ; that the gospel should never be preached, nor 
the ordinances administered, but by themselves alone ; 
and that unless one hear the word from their lips, and 
receive the sacrament from their hands, he is a heathen 
man and a publican ! But this is worse than Jewish 
bigotry, and more absurd than even the pretensions of 
the Pharisees of old. So far from having any warrant 
from the word of God, such a notion perverts the con- 
ditions of salvation, and thus deserves the reprehension 
of all who love the gospel of Christ. Having its origin 
in the same feelings which led the Jews to regard them- 
selves as the favorites of Heaven, or to murmur against 
Christ because he had sat down with publicans and sin- 
ners, it develops itself through as many mediums as 
there are vents for the pride and ambition of the worldly 
mind. It may be detected no less in the priest who 
aims 1o make others admit what he supposes to be the 
exclusive validity of his own ordination, than in him 
who claims infallibility from Rome ; no less in the man 
who hopes in Heaven's favor because of the font at 
which he was baptized, or the altar at which he received 
the eucharist, than in those who presume to hope on the 
ground of their rank and respectability among men. 

Show me the man who in no case will take the sacra- 
ment out of his own narrow pale, or who complacently 
thinks that there is no salvation out of his own ecclesi- 
astical enclosure, and I will show you in him one who, 
had he lived in the days of the apostles, would have 
looked down with scorn on the simple religion of a 

34* 



402 THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 

Cornelius — one who has yet to learn the great princi- 
ple which, in Peter's mission to the Roman centurion, 
is set forth with noontide clearness, that " God is no 
respecter of persons." 

We do not marvel that God should have interposed 
to make known a principle of such vital importance. 
Nothing short of this could have dispelled the prejudices 
which environed the minds of the apostles, and imparted 
to them views and feelings in accordance with the spirit 
of the glorious gospel of the grace of God. By it they 
were emphatically taught that the barrier between the 
Jew and the Gentile was broken down, never to be 
replaced ; that in God's sight all men are on an equality 
— none to be saved by external privileges, none to be 
lost through the want of such privileges ; that all men 
are alike guilty before God ; that none have a claim on 
his favor ; and that, if any are saved, it will be by God's 
showing mercy, not by their asserted rights or self-com- 
placent assumptions. 

As acceptance in God's sight did not depend on Abra- 
hamic descent, or on external privileges, so we are taught 
that it does not now depend on an answer to the ques- 
tion, ' What is our rank in life ?' or ' to what branch of 
the church we belong ;' but on the state of the heart. 
"In every nation, he that feareth God and worketh 
righteousness is accepted of him." Hence the impor- 
tance of such questions as these : ' Is my heart right in 
the sight of God ? Am I giving evidence of my love to 
God, by my righteousness toward man ? Am I living 
according to that degree of light which I enjoy, and im- 
proving my opportunities to the best of my ability V 



THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 403 

Works, however, are not the meritorious ground of 
our acceptance before God ? In the case of Cornelius, 
they simply proved that he feared and loved God, not 
that he depended on his morality for salvation. By his 
works he showed that he was disposed to do God's 
will ; and hence it appears that a disposition to do the 
will of God, as far as it may be known, constitutes the 
essence of religion. Cornelius improved his advantages ; 
and that he was disposed to do the will of God, to the 
extent of his knowledge, is clear from the fact that, as 
soon as the gospel was preached to him, he believed. 
Hence his acceptance, even before the gospel was made 
known to him — his acceptance through the mercy of 
that God who " looketh on the heart," and who knew 
that he who from the heart feared him and aimed to do 
his W1II7 was prepared to embrace the message of the 
gospel. It must be so, from the nature of man's moral 
constitution, as well as of God's spiritual government. 
" He who offends in one point is guilty of the whole 
law ;" that is, he violates the spirit of the law, and sins 
against the authority of the whole law : and, in like man- 
ner, he who cordially respects, in any one particular, the 
will of God, respects and virtually obeys the whole law. 
Hence, if one conscientiously acts with reference to the 
Divine will, so far as that will has been revealed to him 
through the law of conscience, he cannot reject that will 
when supernaturally enunciated ; because the evidence 
in the latter case is incomparably clearer than in the 
former — unless it were reasonable to suppose that he 
whose vision had been bounded by the light of a taper, 
would not rejoice in the light of the sun. 



404 THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 

It is on this ground we indulge the hope that there 
are some in heathen lands prepared to receive the gos- 
pel, because they may have come to a perception of the 
evils of idolatry, and of the necessity of a purer religion. 
They may now be acting according to the best of their 
knowledge ; and if so, they may be accepted — saved 
through the mercy of God in Jesus Christ. Blessed 
thought ! — were it not for this, we might be tempted to 
harbor dark views of God's government. Not that such 
a thought serves to invalidate the duty of sending the 
gospel to realms of paganism: on the contrary, it fur- 
nishes additional encouragement to publish in all lands 
the glad tidings of great joy ; while it conveys to us this 
great truth, that all men are to be judged according to 
the light which they severally enjoy. 

It is worthy of remark, that, wherever this disposition 
to do the known will of God actually exists, there will 
be no reluctance to embrace the gospel. Men are prone 
" to walk in the ways of their heart ;" and it is because 
they will not give up " the world with its affections 
and lusts," that they so often withstand the claims of 
Jesus Christ — not because, like Cornelius, they fear 
God — proving their deference to his authority, and their 
regard for his favor, by their prayers and alms. 

Show me a man who seriously and candidly avails 
himself of "the light of Nature," and you have pointed 
me to a heathen who would embrace a revelation from 
heaven with heartfelt joy. Or, show me one who, Cor- 
nelius-like, fears God more than the opinion of the 
world ; who teaches his family to reverence God rather 
than to conform to the ways of the world ; a man who 



THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 405 

daily prays to God, and ministers, out of his abundance, 
to the relief of the necessitous — and you have pointed 
me to one who is not too intent on the world to deny 
himself for the sake of Christ ; too proud to learn of 
Christ and take his yoke ; nor so regardless of God's 
favor, so indifferent to his soul's interests, that he would 
for a moment reject the message of God's salvation 
through Jesus Christ: nay, he is now a practical, if not 
a professed believer. 

This, indeed, is one of the great evidences of our 
holy religion : that they who are disposed to do the will 
of God — who show this disposition by their fear of the 
Lord and their departure from evil — are the most thor- 
oughly convinced of its Divine origin, thus corroborating 
the words of holy writ : " The secret of the Lord is 
with them that fear him."— -"If any man will do his 
will, he shall know of the doctrine whether it be of 
God ;" and, on the other hand, " they loved darkness 
rather than light, because their deeds were evil." 

He, therefore, who, amid the light of the gospel, re- 
jects Jesus Christ, cannot reasonably hope in God's 
acceptance on the ground of his morality. True, the 
centurion was accepted before he embraced the gospel ; 
but it does not follow that one can be saved without 
embracing it. Where is the proof that Cornelius de- 
pended on his molality for salvation? His was an 
offering of the heart ; but even when the moralist enters 
the house of God, his heart has no connection with his 
worship. The centurion trained up his family in the 
fear of God ; but the moralist has not even erected the 
family altar. The former daily prayed to God in secret ; 



406 THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 

but the latter never retires from the world to his closet, 
and there, closing the door behind him, prays to that 
God who seeth in secret. Where is the man who " de- 
voutly fears God with all his house" — a man of prayer 
and benevolence — who is, nevertheless, resting on his 
own works for salvation ? 

They who are wont to rely on their works, are the 
very men whose works are unworthy of their reliance. 
They may be moral, according to the world's low esti- 
mate of morality ; but the governing motives of their 
actions have no connection with the fear of God : they 
may be charitable, but they are not devout worshippers 
of God. According to the principles of Deism itself, 
they cannot be accepted ; for they neither worship God 
in spirit, nor aim to do his will to the best of their 
knowledge. 

Cornelius was truly disposed to do the will of God 
as far as it had been made known to him ; and it is on 
this point that solemn issue might be joined with the 
moralist. He was disposed to do the will of God, and 
therefore the first time he heard the gospel, he believed. 
As soon as Jesus Christ was offered, he embraced him 
as his Saviour, and testified his belief in submitting to 
the ordinance of baptism ; that is, by joining the Chris- 
tian church. But the moralist, though he may have re- 
peatedly heard the gospel, has yet refused to obey ; nay, 
from year to year rejected the gospel : and that, too, 
contrary to all evidence, all entreaty — at times when 
perhaps it was difficult for him to stifle his convictions 
of truth and duty ! 

What can constitute an essential difference between 



THE FIRST GENTILE CONVERT. 407 

Cornelius and thyself, O vain man, if this does not? — 
His example ? have you cited it in evidence that you 
may be accepted without believing in Christ ? That 
unequivocally condemns you : that example will rise 
in judgment against you, unless you now renounce 
your own righteousness, and cast yourself, as a poor, 
lost sinner, on the mercy of God through Jesus Christ 
— believing on him to the salvation of your soul ! 



408 THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 



THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 

In contemplating the actions of those who are re- 
moved from us by either distance or time, we seldom 
err in our moral judgments ; and, owing to our inability 
to sympathize with the feelings, or our ignorance of the 
motives which prompted those actions, we are wont to 
conclude that had we been in similar circumstances, we 
would have acted otherwise. Thus, as we go back to 
the early history of Christianity, and contemplate the 
character of the Son of God, we wonder that he should 
have encountered contumely and hate. Our feelings of 
virtuous indignation rise up against those by whom he 
was persecuted and slain; and we have no doubt that, 
had we lived then and there, we should have ranged our- 
selves among the followers of the Lamb. Thus, too, 
as we trace the course of the apostles, and at every step 
gather cumulative evidence to the fact of the Resurrec- 
tion ; as we hang on their lips, and witness the wonder- 
ful signs by which their doctrine was attested, we are 
apt to think that, so far from persecuting, we should 
have protected them ; that if we had not fearlessly es- 
poused tneir cause, we should not have rejected their 
testimony with scorn and derision. But if men, through 
the deceitfulness of sin, are too apt to do even what 
they have condemned in others, then, to say the least, 



THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 409 

had we lived in the days of the apostles, and listened to 
the preaching of Paul himself, we might have heen in- 
different, or even skeptical — we might have procrasti- 
nated compliance with the claims of the gospel, or at 
best been only half persuaded to embrace it. 

That many to whom the apostles addressed them- 
selves did not believe, furnishes no presumption against 
the truth of the gospel — unless the fact that men not 
unfrequently withstand the remonstrances of conscience, 
and act contrary to their own convictions of right, con- 
stitutes a logical objection against the reality of moral 
distinctions. But it is remarkable that the writer of the 
Acts of the Apostles, should have given us such a can- 
did statement of the varied results of their preaching. 

To the success of all human projects, it is of the last 
importance to forestall popular opinion ; and nothing so 
effectually subserves this end as the impression that, 
from the first, it has met with no resistance ; that wher- 
ever made known, it has been immediately and univer- 
sally approved. Every human actor is prone to ex- 
aggerate the merits of his plan, or the extent of his 
influence ; to preclude doubt, and prepossess the popu- 
lar judgment, by vaunting his success, or parading the 
number of his adherents. Various examples might be 
adduced — from the demagogue who strives to create 
the impression that the resolutions of an insignificant 
caucus were the unanimous sentiments of a crowded 
assembly, down to the empiric who enumerates a multi- 
tude of cures by the time his nostrums are ready for 
sale ; or from the fanatic who multiplies converts to 
overawe objectors, down to the temperance-advocate 



410 THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 

whose success is but dubiously gauged by the signatures 
to his pledge. It is curious to observe what pains some 
take to represent their success in the most marvellous 
light ; how the advocate of some peculiar dogma will 
aim to make it appear, even when innumerable facts are 
against him, that for eighteen hundred years it has been 
held by the church without dispute ! Such is the not 
unfrequent policy of men to carry their points ; such is 
human nature, in its expedients to compass selfish ends. 
But nothing of the kind can be detected in the evan- 
gelic narratives. On the supposition that the evange- 
lists were actjug for themselves, there was every tempta- 
tion to both exaggerate and conceal. Could they have 
enlisted the multitude in their favor, there would have 
been the less danger to their own lives ; and what readier 
way to secure the reception of their historic writings, 
than to convey the impression that the followers of Jesus 
were not the few, but the many ; or that all who ever 
listened to Paul, had yielded to the force of his reason- 
ings, and bowed to the supremacy of inspired truth? 
How easy had it been for the evangelist, in recording 
the particulars of the crucifixion, to heighten the injus- 
tice of Pilate's sentence, by saying that even the thieves 
that were crucified with Jesus, saw his innocence and 
commiserated his sufferings ! — but, true to all the facts 
in the case, they state that, though one of them sided 
with Christ, the other blasphemed and reviled him. And, 
in like manner, how easy had it been for one who had 
more regard for the success of his cause than for truth, 
— who overlooked means for the sake of an end — to 
give the most flattering account of Paul's preaching ; 



THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 411 

and particularly, after stating the miraculous manner in 
which he was converted, and the power with which he 
had been endowed of working miracles ! Had the nar- 
rator been a mere ecclesiastic, such as either Rome or 
Oxford has since sent forth to shackle men's minds, he 
would have made it appear that the whole multitude of 
Paul's hearers signed themselves with the sign of the 
cross, or submitted to the regenerative process of bap- 
tism ! Or, had any man of ambitious views and secta- 
rian designs drawn up an account of the apostle's preach- 
ing, there are a thousand chances to one that he would 
have carefully avoided all reference to those who might 
not have been converted, and spoken only of the great 
number of converts, particularly among the higher classes 
of society. 

Nothing, therefore, impresses me with a deeper con- 
viction of the humility and sincerity of the sacred wri- 
ters, than such statements as are made in relation to the 
effect of Paul's preaching on his hearers — to wit, that, 
though some believed, others believed not: some mocked, 
others said they would hear him again. Gallio " cared 
for none of these things :" Felix trembled, but said to 
him — " Go thy way for this time ; when I have a con- 
venient season, I will send for thee." Festus told him 
he was mad ; and, though his argument before Agrippa 
was most cogent, the learned judge was not fully per- 
suaded to become a Christian. 

In such facts might be founded an argument in favor 
of the authenticity of this portion of ecclesiastical his- 
tory : but aside from this, had we not been furnished 
with this inspired account of the early propagation of 



412 THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 

Christianity, we might have been at a loss to understand 
some of the doctrines and some of the results of the 
preached word. It may suffice, however, for our pres- 
ent purpose, to remark that, from this record of the 
Past, the minister of the sanctuary may learn not to be 
discouraged, should some postpone their decision, or 
even mock ; some be indifferent ; others regard him as 
deranged ; and others, again, be no more than almost per- 
suaded to become Christians. And, on the other hand, 
any hearer of the gospel may behold, in this same mirror 
of the Past, his moral self — the precise effect of the 
truth on his own heart ; and it may be, that in the case 
of some one of the various characters to which allusion 
is made in the Acts of the Apostles, he may read his 
own destiny, as shaped by his reception or by his rejec- 
tion of the message from on high ! 

We know not what may have been the effect of the 
preceding pages of this work on the reader's mind. If 
they have been read with serious interest, we cannot but 
hope that the conviction has deepened as he has passed 
from subject to subject, and listened to each response 
from the sacred oracles that God has spoken unto us in 
these last days by his Son, and that without him no man 
can be saved. Shall such a conviction lead to no appro- 
priate and cordial decision? Shall the mind be enlight- 
ened with the knowledge of truth and duty, and the 
heart still cling to a world that knows not God, nor 
Jesus Christ, whom he has sent? 

In conclusion, then, the case of Agrippa,* though it 

* Acts xxvi. 28. 



THE ALMOST PEKSUADED. 413 

it is so familiar, and admits of so limited a train of re- 
mark, constitutes an appropriate, nor will it be found a 
useless, subject of inquiry. 

Before him, Festus brought Paul's cause — for what 
reason we know not, unless he might have been desirous 
of Agrippa's advice, or that Agrippa himself was curious 
to see and hear a man whose conversion to the new 
faith had created such an excitement among the Jews. 
This is the most probable reason : for, though he had 
been brought up at Rome, and received signal marks of 
the favor of Claudius, yet, being a Jew, he must have 
heard of Christ. 

Paul was not on trial : he was to defend himself, or 
make such a statement of his cause as to enlist in his 
behalf Agrippa's influence with the emperor. We grant 
that it was his interest to make out as strong a case as 
possible ; but such a defence could have been made by 
no one who did not know whereof he spoke, and what 
he affirmed. It is a statement of facts, but never was a 
more eloquent statement of facts made by mortal lips. 
As a defence of his cause, it is at once noble and tri- 
umphant. But Paul was actuated by higher sentiments 
than a mere regard for either his rights or his life. If 
ever he urged his rights as a citizen, it was that he 
might go on " to testify to the gospel of the grace of 
God ;" if ever anxious to secure justice in his own be- 
half, it was that he might "commend himself to every 
man's conscience in the sight of God." Hence his 
unflinching courage and unwavering fidelity. Before 
any tribunal, as well as in the synagogue, he is the same 
man — speaking the same words of truth and soberness : 

35* 



414 THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 

and thus, while silencing the cavils of his enemies, he 
carries the conviction of the truth of his message to the 
heart of his judges. 

Such an opportunity for preaching the gospel as he 
then had was not to be neglected. Having given an 
account of his life from his youth up ; of the manner in 
which he was brought to the knowledge and belief of 
the faith in Christ; and how he had hitherto discharged 
that commission which he had received from the Lord 
Jesus — he is proceeding, with growing energy and zeal, 
to prove that he had preached " none other things than 
those which the prophets and Moses did say should 
come" — how "that Christ should suffer, and that he 
should be the first that should rise from the dead, and 
should show light unto the people, and to the Gentiles !" 
— when Festus rudely interrupts him : probably aiming 
to preclude the effect of Paul's defence on the common 
mind ; or, it may be, deeming it not worth while to listen 
any longer to one whose mind, in his view, had become 
affected by undue attention to a particular subject. Being 
a Roman, he had no ideas on the subject of religion sep- 
arate from the mythology of the heathen ; and regarding 
that as nothing more than the device of kings and priests 
for civil purposes, he could not account for Paul's zeal, 
much less his belief, except on the supposition that his 
learning had crazed him. To one who had no true idea 
of God, and had always looked on the religion of his 
own country as an imposture, Paul's doctrine about one 
Jesus, whom the Jews had put to death as a malefactor, 
and his story of having seen him, and heard him speak, 
and received a commission from him to proclaim remis- 



THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 415 

sion of sin in his name, must have seemed most prepos- 
terous ; and, in this respect, Festus represents not a few 
of the wise men of the empire, who prejudged, and, by 
consequence, rejected the claims of Christianity. Even 
such men as Pliny and Tacitus, in their allusions to the 
Christian sect, give melancholy evidence that they could 
contemn a subject which they had not the candor to 
examine, and denounce those as fanatics from whom 
they were too prejudiced to learn. 

Festus, however, in ascribing Paul's views and feel- 
ings to an overheated imagination, was not unlike some 
at the present day, who, having no comprehension of 
the nature and claims of Christianity, much less sympa- 
thy with its spirit, are wont to look on a devoted Chris- 
tian as visionary, if not insane ; and who think that any 
one who would bring them to a sense of their need of 
such a Saviour as Christ, must be indeed beside him- 
self. Practically, they regard the gospel as a matter in 
which they have no interest. Never have they taken 
into serious thought their relations to God and futurity, 
or their character and condition as lost sinners ; and 
hence they know not how the mind is necessarily affected 
when brought under the influence of the great truths of 
Christianity. To think, to feel, to act, as one should 
who believes in God and in the retributions of an end- 
less hereafter, and that without an interest in the blood 
of Christ there can be no salvation from the wrath to 
come — all this must be strange to him who has never 
bestowed one thoughtful hour on the great problem of 
his being and destination ! 

Paul beside himself? It is Festus who is not in his 



416 THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 

right mind. — Paul mad? It is Festus rather, who, 
though himself a sinner against God, and in danger of 
the judgment, has no concern for his salvation ! There 
can be no greater folly than to procrastinate compliance 
with the overtures of the gospel ; but to regard the gos- 
pel as too trifling a matter for a wise man's concern, 
denotes a state of mind more to be pitied than physical 
madness. Of all men, he acts the most irrationally who, 
in his devotedness to worldly ends, proceeds on the 
supposition that the Bible is false, and hell a dream ! 
It is as though one, in the confidence of his own supe- 
rior judgment as to the termination of his course, and 
in spite of warnings and the weeping entreaties of friends, 
should all the while go nearer and nearer the edge of a 
fearful precipice, never to awake to his delusion until it 
is too late. 

Paul, on the other hand, had come to a knowledge 
of himself — having learned of Christ. He had conse- 
quently left all to follow Christ in the pathway to immor- 
tality ; and to him no question was so important as the 
question, ' What is truth?' — and no interest so great as 
the salvation of the soul. He believed in God's Reve- 
lation, and therefore spoke and acted in accordance with 
his deep convictions of the truth, and with an eye single 
to God's glory and man's eternal well-being. His mind 
was as sound as his heart was true ; and he stands as the 
type of all who have been brought to a right mind as 
regards their relations to God and eternity. The nearer 
one approximates to the apostle's thoughts, and pur- 
poses, and actions, the sounder will be his views, the 
purer his motives, and the more benevolent his life. 



THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 417 

If but few at the present day can bear a comparison 
with Paul in his labors and perils, there are many who 
have the same views of truth and duty, of time and eter- 
nity, of God and Jesus, of heaven and hell ; who are 
swayed by the some motives, and animated by the same 
zeal for perishing souls — though they may be obnoxious 
to the same charge which Festus brought against Paul. 

Paul and Festus may be regarded as at either extreme 
of the public mind in relation to the truths of Revelation. 
The one zealous, through the strength of his convic- 
tions ; the other opposed, from the force of his preju- 
dices : — the one anxious to brino- all men to the knowl- 
edge of the truth ; the other too satisfied with the con- 
clusions of his philosophy, or the vagaries of self-conceit, 
to take the pains to listen, much less to inquire : — the 
one overborne with a sense of eternal realities, the other 
living for self and the world. 

Between these, are several grades : the Gallios, who, 
with unthinking apathy, care for none of these things ; 
the Felixes, who tremble at the announcement of a future 
judgment, and procrastinate repentance; and they who, 
attracted by curiosity to hear the word, are favorably 
impressed — or, perceiving that the evidences of Scrip- 
ture are not to be disputed, and that its truths harmonize 
with the reason, and meet the wants of the soul, are 
almost persuaded to confess Christ before men. To the 
first of these classes may be referred the low-thoughted 
herd — the muck-rakes of society ; to the second, men 
whose actions are contrary to what they know and feel 
to be right, and who contrive to quiet their consciences 
by virtue of their better purposes one day to be fulfilled ; 



418 THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 

while the last embraces persons in some respects dif- 
ferent from either of the preceding classes — men who 
have some knowledge of scriptural truth — who often 
think of their eternal interests, and are upright in the 
relations of life — moral and amiable men, useful mem- 
bers of society, and respecters of religion. 

This class may be represented by Agrippa. We have 
no reason to think that iiis character was stained by vice, 
or his disposition marred by malign passions. On the 
contrary, he seems to have been an estimable man — 
having had an acquaintance with the Scriptures, and a 
regard for truth and right. He knew that, as there is a 
God, it is proper to serve him ; as the Scriptures are of 
God, all men are bound to go according to the law and 
the testimony. He knew, moreover, that the Jewish 
expectation of the Messiah was not unfounded ; nor was 
he unacquainted with what had occurred in relation both 
to Jesus Christ, who had been put to death by the order 
of Pontius Pilate, and to his followers, whose doctrine 
had occasioned popular tumults in divers places among 
the Jews. 

Paul seems to have been aware of Agrippa's standing 
and intelligence; and accordingly — instead of arguing 
the point with Festus, and aiming to convince him that, 
though he might seem to some minds to be beside him- 
self, yet there was a method in his madness — he rebuts 
his accusation, not so much by the calm and respectful 
manner in which he denied it, as by appealing at once 
to the king, in attestation of his sanity. He might have 
said much in self-defence, or covered Festus with con- 
fusion of face ; but nothing could have had such influ- 



THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 419 

ence over his accuser as this ready and felicitous appeal. 
It serves to show, not merely Paul's command of his 
feelings, but his thorough consciousness of the truth of 
all he had stated ; and not only to remove any impres- 
sion which might have been made that he was deranged, 
but to fasten a conviction of the truth of the gospel on 
the mind of Agrippa himself. 

He had spoken with all the self-possession of a man 
who felt the truth and importance of his cause, and with 
all the freedom of one who had nothing to disguise, and 
no secret end to answer. He had spoken of events 
which were known to all the Jews, and on which no 
man could have candidly reflected without perceiving 
their momentous import — which he was persuaded had 
not been unknown by Agrippa himself. He had spoken 
in accordance with the predictions of Moses and the 
prophets, and with the great facts in Christ's history. 

'King Agrippa, believest thou the prophets? — that 
ihey spoke as they were moved by the Holy Ghost, and 
ihat they foretold the coming of Messias ? If their pre- 
dictions have been thus fulfilled in the death and resur- 
rection of Jesus, then it follows that he is the Christ : 
his religion is truth from Heaven ; it cannot be rejected 
without rejecting God's testimony, and perilling the 
soul! Believest thou? I know that thou believest. 
Then thou canst not reject Christ without forswearing 
Moses and the prophets, and resisting thine own convic- 
tions of the truth !' 

Unable to deny that the argument was valid, and that 
the prophets had been fulfilled in the signal events which 
had recently taken place in Jerusalem — so far from 



420 THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 

being influenced by Festus's judgment, he candidly 
owns the impression which Paul's defence has made on 
his mind : " Almost thou yersuadest me to be a Chris- 
tian." 

He was convinced of the apostle's innocence and sin- 
cerity, saw the conclusion to which a belief in the 
prophets necessarily led, and was on the point of yield- 
ing up his mind and heart to the belief and acknowl- 
edgment of the Christian faith : but further than this 
we have no information respecting him. The proba- 
bility is, that this was the turning point in his destiny ; 
and that, for certain worldly reasons, he dismissed the 
subject for the present — but, in so doing, unconsciously 
postponed it until it was too late to decide. 

He was almost persuaded : and how many at the 
present day have been in precisely the same state of 
mind ! 

Perhaps the reader can recall his own experience. 
You might have gone to hear some preacher of the gos- 
pel — it may be, from motives of curiosity — to while 
away an hour which otherwise would have passed heav- 
ily, or from a mere desire to gratify taste and vanity. 
Be the motive what it might, you were worldly in all 
your views and feelings ; it may be, skeptical of Christi- 
anity, and prejudiced against those who called them- 
selves Christians. But soon you lost sight of the man- 
ner of the preacher, in your growing interest in the 
matter of his discourse. Though surrounded by num- 
bers, you seemed to be singled out and personally ad- 
dressed. The message referred to you — to your char- 
acter and condition bv nature — your relations to Him 



THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 421 

who made you, and would one day judge you for the 
deeds done in the flesh. You were impressed with a 
sense of your guilt and danger ; felt yourself not pre- 
pared to meet your God in judgment ; that you could 
not answer the charge of ingratitude to one who had 
crowned your life with loving-kindnesses and tender 
mercies, nor the charge of rebellion against his govern- 
ment who had formed you for his own glory. As the 
preacher went on, he seemed to you as God's ambas- 
sador, pleading with you in Christ's stead to be recon- 
ciled to God. The truth of God came home to you ; 
its evidence was too strong to be resisted, and its im- 
portance too pressing to be denied : for the first time, 
you realized the demands of truth ; you felt condemned 
— your need of an interest in that blood which was 
shed for sinners — and you were almost persuaded to 
become a Christian. 

The preached word does not always produce this 
effect ; yet they who have withstood its appropriate 
influence, may have been affected by some providential 
event, which, forcibly arresting their attention, naturally 
suggested to their minds the most serious thoughts. 

It was perhaps the death of some friend, whose last 
hours were those of peace and hope. The death-bed 
scene was so contrary to his anticipations ; so different 
from what he might have supposed to be possible ; so 
strange to one who had no idea of happiness separate 
from the gratification of worldly desires — that he was 
led to pause and reflect on the causes of such a scene : 
how one who knew that he must die, could be so willing 
to die — to leave all the riches, and honors, and pleas- 

36 



422 THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 

ures of the world, and all the endearments of family and 
friends ; that he could have his affections so placed on 
unseen things, and so deep an assurance of immortal 
life, and of unending joy in the presence of Christ, as 
even to long to depart ! And while he stood by that 
bedside, and witnessed the triumph of Christian faith, 
he felt that there is a reality in religion ; and, though he 
might never have prayed before, the language of his 
heart then was- — "Let me die the death of the righ- 
teous, and let my last end be like his !" 

In another's case, it might have been the death of 
his bosom companion. For years they had walked 
along the path of worldly pursuits. The instructions 
of their childhood were forgotten ; the counsels of age 
disregarded ; the sanctuary was deserted, and the Sab- 
bath profaned. Religion was the last thing they would 
need, or care for. The world lured them on : the mor- 
row will be as this day, or yet more abundant — when 
suddenly, as by a stroke of lightning, the one is stretched 
in the arms of death! Appalling spectacle! — enough 
to awaken any impenitent man to the folly, the madness, 
of trifling with the concerns of his soul ! 

It is not without an influence on him who is spared. 
With what emotion does he gaze on the pale features of 
his companion, who but yesterday was so full of life 
and hope — so thoughtless, too, of his supreme interest 
— alas ! wholly unprepared for death. And while 

" his hopes and fears 
Start up alarmed, and o'er life's narrow verge 
Look down — on what 1 A fathomless abyss, 
A dread eternity ! how surely his !" — 



THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 423 

should he fail to heed this solemn warning — while 
he recalls the long-neglected instructions of God's word, 
and again hears the Saviour of sinners calling unto him 
in accents of tenderest entreaty — "Turn ye, for why 
will ye die?" — he is almost persuaded to become a 
Christian ! 

In like manner, some have been brought to the same 
state of mind when they were prostrated by sickness, or 
exposed to imminent danger : for a time the attraction 
of the world ceases — death and eternity stare them in 
the face ! They feel that they have sadly neglected 
their highest concernment, and are almost persuaded. 

Thus are there instances of the same convictions and 
the same promptings during a period of unusual atten- 
tion to religion. They who have withstood both the 
admonitions of a parent's love, and the entreaties of a 
faithful preacher, have at last been affected by ths thought 
that others around them — perhaps some of their friends 
— were making their peace with God, or rejoicing in 
the hope of his pardoning mercy. They have said to 
themselves : ' Here the Spirit of God is, of a truth. 
This or that one cannot be acting a part. Nothing short 
of God's Spirit could have changed his heart, and led 
him to renounce the world. They have left me ; still, 
they pity and pray for me ! And shall I stand out 
against the demands of truth, and neglect this the day 
of my merciful visitation ? Shall so many be taken, 
and I left to perish in my sins?' And thus, under the 
influence of such peculiarly solemn and affecting scenes, 
he is almost persuaded to become a Christian ! 

We might advert to the persuasive influence of a 



424 THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 

"communion season" — though they who do not pro- 
fess to be Christians, too often intentionally absent them- 
selves from the house of God on such occasions ; or, if 
they attend, retire before the " communion service" 
begins. This is an unfavorable sign — to my mind, 
painfully significant of their unbelief; not merely that 
they have " no part nor lot in the matter," but that they 
have never seriously reflected on the fact that, without 
an interest in Christ, there can be no deliverance from 
the condemnation of Cod's holy law. Perhaps the rea- 
son for their retiring is, that there is a something in the 
administration of the Lord's supper which tends to dis- 
sipate the delusions of a false hope; which intimates to 
them that they have no warrant for hope so long as they 
knowingly violate the Saviour's dying injunction ; and 
which forces on their minds a sense of their ingratitude 
to Him who poured out his soul unto death that they 
might live : a something, too, in the outward separation 
which then takes place between God's visible people 
and the people of the world, which disturbs their con- 
sciences, by forcibly reminding them of that separation 
which will be effected at the last day ! 

If we are right in our surmises, they who are con- 
scious of such suggestions are not mistaken. The 
Lord's supper presents a solemn scene. It is a stand- 
ing proof of the truth of that gospel which Paul preached 
in the hearing of king iigrippa. It was instituted to 
shadow forth, down to the end of time, the death of 
Christ, as the Lamb of God slain from the foundation 
of the world, and typified in the first acceptable sacrifice 
that was ever offered by fallen man to the offended 



THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 425 

majesty of Heaven.* It is the passover of the present 
dispensation — the spiritual feast upon the one great Sac- 
rifice. It was designed, moreover, to unite all his fol- 
lowers in a visible bond of faith and love, of peace and 
joy ; and it will be observed until Christ come, in the 
glory of his Father and with all his holy angels, to sep- 
arate between him that served God and him that served 
him not. 

How expressive those simple elements — carrying the 
mind back to the scenes of Gethsemane and of Calvary 

— where Jesus sweat as it were great drops of blood — 
where he was nailed to the accursed cross ! and then 
forward to the scenes of that day when he who hung on 
the cross will come to decide the destinies of men and 
angels ! How intimate the connection between the re- 
membrance of him at his table, and union with him by a 
world-renouncing faith ! — between confessing him before 
men, and being confessed by him before the holy angels ! 

Amid the solemn silence of a " communion season" 

— while the emblems of the Saviour's broken body and 
shed blood are distributed to the company of the disci- 
ples, and each one is left to his own devout reflections 

— a still small voice has been heard by some one of the 
spectators, accusing him of having too long turned his 
back on the Saviour — trifled with the influences of 
God's gracious Spirit — knowingly neglected his duty — 
and voluntarily separated himself, from God's covenant 
people ! And while he felt that he was without excuse 
for having neglected such an opportunity, and the thought 
seriously weighed on his mind that another opportunity 

* See pages 24, 25. 

36* 



426 THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 

might not recur, he was almost persuaded to become a 
Christian. 

But why were not such fully persuaded and fixedly 
resolved? — for although, under similar circumstances, 
many have become Christians, yet the class of persons 
to whom we have referred are now no nearer the king- 
dom of God than they were before. In Agrippa's case, 
it was owing perhaps to the force of lingering prejudice, 
to his reluctance to be associated with the despised fol- 
lowers of the Nazarene, to the pride of rank or the love 
of office, or to the persuasion that there was time enough 
to come to a decision. And it is owing to causes not 
unlike those which operated on the mind of Agrippa, 
that many who have been similarly impressed, have not 
yet become the willing followers of the Lord Jesus 
Christ. 

There is the love of some sin that always leads the 
sinner to hesitate. There are the sentiments of false 
shame, because he himself may have sometimes scoffed 
— the allurements of worldly pleasure, the promptings 
of ambition, or the whispers of avarice : there is the 
conscience-quieting suggestion that he may be as good 
as Christians themselves — better than some who name 
the name of Christ ; and, though last, not least in its 
influence, the ever-besetting impression that the present 
is, after all, not so favorable for a decision as some future 
time will be : and in one or the other of these disposi- 
tions and suggestions of man's depraved heart, we may 
discern the reason why they to whom we have alluded 
were not fully persuaded. 

We attach but little importance to the supposition 



THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 427 

that they might not have had all the evidence for the 
truth they deemed necessary, or that their minds were 
embarrassed by speculative difficulties : still less in rela- 
tion to those who have enjoyed all advantages for mas- 
tering the evidences and understanding the doctrines of 
the Christian system. " The lusts of the flesh" often 
sway the mind's decisions ; and, that we do not err in 
ascribing even speculative difficulties, as well as pro- 
crastinated compliance with the conditions of the gospel, 
to the force of pride, of passion, or of prejudice, might 
be shown by an appeal to all who have become Chris- 
tians. 

There is scarce one who knows not, from his own 
experience, bow great is the reluctance of the " carnal 
mind" to give up all for Christ ; what a conflict ensued 
the moment truth gained a lodgment in his conscience ; 
how he had to contend with the love of some sinful 
pleasure, with the aspirations of ambition, with the desire 
of becoming speedily rich, with the allurements of luxu- 
rious and fashionable life, or with the skeptical sugges- 
tions of an evil heart ; how at one moment he was influ- 
enced by the fear of shame, and again by a false pride ; 
now tempted to think that religion is a delusion, and 
then, when convinced of his guilt and danger, tempted 
to delay. Yes ; and perhaps how long was his struggle 
against " the world, the flesh, and the devil ;" how he 
kept aloof from wonted scenes and engagements, lest his 
mind should be diverted ; how, at last, he sought the 
converse of some man of God, that he might make 
known the state of his mind, and be directed aright ; 
how he feared that he might rest satisfied, for the pres- 



428 THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 

ent, in being almost persuaded ; how he fell on his 
knees, and confessed his besetting sins to God, and 
prayed that he might be enabled to forsake every sin — 
that no wonted allurement, no selfish and worldly mo- 
tive, might interfere with his full persuasion of the truth, 
his acknowledging of the same, and ranging himself on 
the Lord's side. 

But what a state of mind is that to which we have 
referred ; how full of interest to angels as well as Chris- 
tians ; how pregnant with vast results ! It is then the 
dying sinner comes to himself — to a conviction of his 
true character as a fallen being, and of the wants and 
woes of his moral nature — his need of pardon, purity,' 
and peace ! He begins to see that the favor of God is 
worth more to him than all the objects to the acquisition 
of which he had been so long devoted ; begins to feel 
for the safety of his precious, undying soul ! it may be, 
trembles for his salvation ! Trembles? — well he may. 
He stands, as it were, midway between Christ and the 
world — between heaven and hell. He cannot remain 
where he is : he must go forward, or he will go back- 
ward ; must yield to his convictions, or stifle them ; 
embrace the truth, or seek some refuge of lies ; give up 
his sins for Christ, or Christ for his sins ! 

Hence his greater danger ; because, being almost per- 
suaded, he may be tempted to think that there is at 
least safety in such a state, and that he may at any time 
come to a decision. But not so : any delay must be 
attended with awful hazard to the soul. The fact of 
having once acted in direct opposition to the clear and 
strong convictions of duty, lessens the probability that 



THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 429 

he will ever be influenced in the same degree by the 
like convictions. If he can now withstand the clearest 
evidences, the most effective motives, and the most 
touching appeals ; if neither the force of truth, nor the 
threatenings of wrath, nor the promises of mercy, nor 
the penetrating sense of his own guilt and danger, nor 
the dread possibility that his day of grace may end with 
the going down of the morrow's sun ; if none of these 
considerations can induce him to give up the world and 
follow Christ, is it reasonable to expect that he ever will 
be fully persuaded ? 

He may think that he is unfavorably situated for a 
decision, or that his worldly avocations are too urgent 
to be postponed : such is apt to be the infatuation of the 
dying sinner, even when brought to this crisis in his his- 
tory. But were he only honest with himself, and true to 
his highest welfare, he would forego all worldly inter- 
ests rather than procrastinate his decision. The world 
will never appeal to him with less force than it does 
now ; and, by a moral necessity of his nature, he will 
become more wedded to self and sin, and more averse 
from God and duty. 

Here the teachings of experience preclude theory, 
and the warnings of facts supersede the necessity of 
argument. The skeptical may yet be convinced — the 
immoral convicted — the indifferent aroused from their 
fatal lethargy ; but he who can rest satisfied for the pres- 
ent in being almost persuaded, is hardening his own 
heart: the process may be gradual, but it is sure — 
as has been exemplified in the case of many an aged 
worldling. 



430 THE ALMOST PERSUADED. 

Nor is it difficult to account for this on scriptural prin- 
ciples. Can any thing short of a Divine influence turn 
men from nature's darkness into the marvellous light 
of the gospel ? Were not these convictions of truth 
and duty wrought in that man's mind by the Spirit of 
God? was it not because God's Spirit strove with him, 
that he was so deeply affected by the truth, and con- 
cerned for his salvation ? Yes ; and it is as true that 
God's Spirit " shall not always strive with man." 

Strange, indeed, that any one who has been brought 
to this state of mind, can rest until he comes to a decis- 
ion ! Of what use is it to be no more than " almost per- 
suaded ?" And should death come upon one in an 
unexpected hour, what alleviation could it be to reflect. 
- — rather, what an aggravation of his misery would it 
be to recall the fact that, while enjoying all the lights 
and privileges of the gospel, he was almost a Christian ! 
Infinitely better to live and die a heathen, than live and 
die all but a Christian ! 

Here, then, we take our leave of the reader — not 
without the hope, however, that if he is a Christian, he 
will be led to prize more than ever " the faith once de- 
livered unto the saints ;" if he is not, that he will rever- 
ently listen to the voice which now sounds, in warning 
accents, from the depths of the Sacred Oracles : " To- 
day, if ye will hear His voice, harden not your heart." 

THE END. 



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